#I really think someone who’s like- it starts in the very first chapter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

melancholy-of-nadia · 4 hours ago

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behind hidden pages (m) | jjk

title: behind hidden pages pairing: art student!jungkook x writer!reader(f) rating/genre: m(18+) ; fluff, smut ; the canon idol au summary: after being ghosted by your boyfriend with him disappearing off to a different country, it's not an understatement to say that it really crushed your heart and eagerness to ever be in a relationship again. well, good thing is that it leads to your first ever bestselling novel and peacefully working at your best friend jimin's cafe! however, someone appears out nowhere to disturb your simple little life. enter: jungkook, a handsome young man with a hidden side to him who suddenly moves into the studio below you. when your paths collide and your heart is shaken by him, what more lies underneath the surface which will lead to more emotional turmoil?! warnings: no actual warnings for this pilot as it's very tame, but if I continue it, there will be: eventual smut (which you won't have to wait too long for it to happen), a lot of s*xual tension, a lot of smut, caught masturb*ting, dom! jk, jungkook's clingyness 50x, jungkook body worshiping reader heavily, exhibitionism, pwp, potential threesome, cheating (not jungkook or reader), best friend! jimin, ex boyfriend! seokjin, everyone's traits are slightly exaggerated/a bit out of character, a bit of angst note: loosely based on the korean novel and webtoon, trash's circumstance, i read it and thought this would make an interesting (and very messy, drama-filled) BTS AU but changed some aspects. i decided to write one chapter of it to see what you all think as a "pilot", and based on your response, I'll probably continue it. total word count: 5.3k drop date: February 16th, 2025 5pm pst ao3 link –

"A tenant will be moving into the basement today," Jimin says, his voice casual as he starts on an espresso order. The hiss of the steaming wand fills the air.

"The basement?" You glance up from your clipboard, where you've been noting inventory. Your fingers hover over the bags of coffee beans before you start counting them out loud.

"Yeah, so get rid of all your stuff down there," he continues. "It's all trash."

You pause mid-count, narrowing your eyes at him. "You do know there's one box that belongs to Kim Seokjin."

"I know," he says, unfazed, tamping the espresso with practiced ease. "So just clean it up."

"Because he's my ex?"

"Obviously."

"Rude." Jimin smirks, entirely unbothered, before his expression shifts into something borderline angelic. With a practiced smile, he slides a cup across the counter. "Your espresso is ready! And here's a cookie—on the house!" he says, voice suddenly dripping with warmth as he hands it to the customer.

The customer beams, thanking him before heading to their table, completely unaware of the menace lurking beneath that sweet façade. You, however, know better. Jimin has always been like this—blunt, sweet, and on occasion, bordering on heartless, but never without good intentions. You’ve known him since college, back when you were just another over-caffeinated lit student drowning in deadlines, and he was the pre-law major guy who somehow had everything together. He was charming in that effortless way—always quick with a teasing remark, but also the kind of friend who showed up when you needed him, no questions asked.

After graduating, while you floundered between odd jobs and your dream of becoming a writer, Jimin went ahead and made something of himself after working at a law firm. He opened this café, built a life around it, and when you were struggling, he gave you a place to stay. Rent-free, no strings attached—except for the occasional demand that you work the counter when he was understaffed, which, honestly, was often.

And now, apparently, he's renting out the basement. You roll your eyes, which Jimin catches immediately. "Y/N, stop spacing out and take out the trash," he chides, already moving on to his next order.

With an exaggerated sigh, you grab the garbage bags and push through the back door. The moment you step outside, the heat wraps around you like an oppressive blanket. Cicadas drone endlessly, their hum rising and falling in waves, amplifying the stillness of the afternoon.

As you toss the trash into the bin, your gaze drifts toward the basement windows. The glass is smudged with dust, the interior barely visible through the faint reflections of the street. The idea of someone actually living down there feels… strange.

For the past three years, the basement has been nothing but a forgotten space, cluttered with boxes, old café equipment, and—most importantly—traces of Kim Seokjin.

It’s at this moment that Jimin’s words echo in your mind: Get rid of all your stuff.

He wants you to clean it out, but just the thought of it exhausts you. Maybe he needs the extra rent money, though it’s hard to imagine him struggling financially.

Still, why now? Why suddenly rent out a place that’s been abandoned for so long?

That space has been nothing more than a storage room—a place where things go to be forgotten, including the remnants of your past with Seokjin.

You met Seokjin when he was fresh out of college, preparing for his master’s in literature. He had this quiet confidence, the kind that made people naturally gravitate toward him. Handsome, soft-spoken, kind—someone everyone admired. And somehow, for reasons you still don’t fully understand, he chose you.

Not that you were insecure. You weren’t clingy, and he was always faithful. Your relationship was easy, steady—comfortable in a way that made you believe it would last at least three years of quiet stability.

Until one day, without warning, he left.

Jimin had dismissed it as a submersible breakup—a term he coined for relationships that sink silently, without a fight or a final word. Which felt, exactly like that.

It was during that time, while you were drowning in the wreckage, that Jimin, with all the money he’d stacked up working as a top-notch lawyer, decided to buy this building.

A quiet place in a calm residential neighborhood of Seoul.

This building which ended up becoming your home.

The second floor, where you lived.

The first floor, where the ”Butterfly by Jimin” cafe was born.

And the basement, once a roasting room and a storage space—now, supposedly, someone’s future studio.

Jimin had called it financial therapy.

"A new home, a new job," he’d said. "There's nothing like financial therapy to heal the wounds of a heart broken person."

You scoff, because he wasn’t even the one who was experiencing one of the worse lows of their life.

But a new home?

A new job?

It had actually worked. Maybe that, and the book you wrote in the aftermath—Falling Moon Under the Bridge—becoming a surprise bestseller had been enough to pull you forward.

You’ve come so far, running in the opposite direction of your past. And yet, the weight of it lingers, like dust unsettled in the basement.

With a deep breath, you turn back toward the café, deciding that you’ll clean it out later. Since your shift ended, you head upstairs to get changed before you meet with your publisher later that afternoon for your audiobook’s recording session.

But just as you step inside, the bell above the door chimes.

A waft of something mild drifts through the air.

Fabric softener?

You glance toward the entrance just as a man walks in, catching only the back of him before looking away.

"I love the fabric softener scent, but it doesn’t mix well with the humid summer heat."

You arrive at the recording studio in the late afternoon, the faint hum of music equipment and muffled voices filtering through the hallway as you find the right room. This is where you’re meeting with your publisher, Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung, like Jimin, is an upperclassman friend from college. Since you were both in the literature department, you worked on a bunch of projects together as literary apprentices under your old mentor, Professor Jeon. He was brutal, and pushed you both hard during undergrad. But looking back, you know it was worth it. His strict guidance and high standards helped shaped your writing today.

After graduating, Taehyung started working as an intern at a publishing company, and now, well, he's one of the head publishers there. It’s crazy to think about how far he’s come, but honestly, it’s not surprising. He always had this sharp eye for detail and a way with words that made his work stand out.

After locating the room, you step inside and are immediately greeted by Taehyung, his signature easygoing smile lighting up his face as he holds out a familiar yellow carton of banana milk.

"Thanks for coming on such short notice, Y/N," he says, his voice warm and appreciative as he presses the cold carton into your hands. "I really needed your insight on this. You always have such a unique perspective, and I didn’t want to make any big decisions without running it by you first."

You smile, accepting the drink and taking a seat in one of the plush chairs near the recording booth. Slipping the straw through the foil, you take a sip, savoring the familiar cold, sweet taste of the banana milk. "No worries at all," you reply, leaning back comfortably. "I’m actually really glad to be here. I’ve never sat in on an audiobook recording before. When does it start?"

Taehyung glances at his watch, his expression brightening. "Just in a bit! I’m having a friend of mine handle the narration. He’s got this incredible voice, and honestly, he was highly recommended by Professor Jeon. I think he’s going to bring something really special to the project."

As Taehyung speaks, you flip through the script he handed you earlier, scanning the highlighted passages and margin notes. Your best-selling book’s first half is from the point of view of a man named Haneul, who has a near-death experience and begins seeing a specific woman, Seo Yul in his dreams every night. Determined to find her in real life, he embarks on a journey that blurs the lines between reality and illusion.

You’ve always had a vague image of Haneul in your mind—his mannerisms, his voice, the way he carries himself. But could there actually be someone out there to fit his voice. The door to the recording studio opens with a soft click, pulling you from your thoughts. The sound of footsteps shuffles into the room, accompanied by the faint rustle of fabric and the clink of ice in a cup. A cool breeze from the hallway briefly sweeps in before the door closes again.

"Sorry I’m late, hyung," a deep, smooth voice says, tinged with a hint of apology but also a casual ease.

"That’s okay! Did you get here alright? It’s pretty hot out there," Taehyung replies, his tone light and forgiving.

"I drove and picked up an iced Americano on the way, so it wasn’t too bad," the voice responds, and you can hear the smile in his words.

At the sound of the unfamiliar voice, you finally look up from the script.

And that’s when you see him.

He’s tall, with an effortlessly handsome presence that immediately draws your attention. His plain white t-shirt hugs his frame just right, paired with medium-wash jeans that look like they’ve been worn a hundred times but still fit perfectly. A silver lip ring sits on the corner of his mouth, catching the studio lights and glinting subtly as he speaks. His dark hair is slightly tousled, as if he’d run a hand through it on his way in, and there’s a relaxed confidence in the way he carries himself.

But what stands out the most isn’t his appearance—it’s his voice. Deep and smooth, it carries effortlessly in the room, each word deliberate and weighted with a natural lilt that makes everything he says sound intentional, almost melodic. It’s the kind of voice that could make even the most mundane sentence sound captivating.

You consider greeting him, but he’s already caught up in conversation with Taehyung and a few others in the room—people who seem to know him well.

You decide not to bother. It’s a hassle to talk to and befriend new people anyway. You’ve never been one to insert yourself into situations where you might feel out of place, and right now, it’s easier to just stay in your corner.

But then, a shadow approaches, lingering just beside you. You glance up, your pen pausing mid-scribble.

"Hello, Sunbae."

Sunbae?

The word catches you off guard. You blink at him, your mind racing. How old is he? You quickly do the math in your head, trying to figure out if he’s younger or if he’s just being overly polite. Either way, the title feels a little too formal, especially in this setting.

"Oh hi there, I’m L/N F/N, the author of this book," you say, offering a polite smile. Your voice is steady, but there’s a flicker of curiosity in your tone. You’re not used to being called sunbae—it’s been a while since you graduated, and you’ve always preferred a more casual approach to these things.

"Kim Jungkook," he introduces himself, holding out a hand. His grip is firm, warm, and there’s a confidence in the way he meets your gaze. "I heard you graduated from the school I’m attending. I’m an art major there. I’m looking forward to working with you."

You shake his hand, nodding slowly as you process his words. An art major? That explains the effortless style, the subtle edge to his appearance. But more than that, it’s the way he carries himself—like he’s comfortable in his own skin, unbothered by the weight of first impressions.

"Ah, it’s been a while since I graduated," you reply, your tone light. "And we weren’t in the same department, so just call me by my name." You try to brush off the formality, hoping to ease into a more relaxed dynamic. Titles always feel so distant, and you’d rather not have that kind of barrier between you, especially when you’re about to collaborate on something as personal as your book.

But Jungkook shakes his head, his lips quirking slightly into a small, almost teasing smile. "No, I can’t do that, Sunbae—" he says, his voice low but firm, leaving the sentence hanging as the audio engineer calls him over to enter the recording booth. He gives you a polite nod before heading inside, slipping on the headphones.

As Jungkook walks away, you glance down at your hand, flexing your fingers absentmindedly. The warmth of his grip still lingers, a faint echo that feels oddly significant.

Odd. That interaction felt strangely familiar, like a déjà vu you can’t quite place.

You’re certain you’ve never met Jungkook before—his looks alone aren’t easy to forget. The sharp jawline, the lip ring, the way his eyes seem to hold a thousand unspoken thoughts—it’s all too distinctive to slip your memory. And yet, there’s something about him, something that tugs at the edges of your mind, like a half-remembered dream you can’t quite piece together.

Your gaze drifts toward his plastic coffee cup resting on the table. The cup sleeve catches your eye, and you lean in slightly to get a better look.

Butterfly by Jimin Café.

Jimin’s café?

Wait—hold on.

Your breath stills for a second as realization dawns. The scent of fabric softener from earlier today, the fleeting brush of someone’s shoulder against yours in the crowded café, the low murmur of a voice apologizing as they passed by. It all comes rushing back.

Your eyes widen.

You lift your head, and across the studio, Jungkook is watching you.

With a smirk.

There’s something unreadable in his expression, something knowing, as if he’s been waiting for this moment, waiting for you to connect the dots that you do not know of. His lips curve slightly, and his eyes lock onto yours, holding your gaze for a beat too long.

Shit.

You quickly look away, pretending to be absorbed in the script. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. You flip a page, your fingers trembling just slightly, hoping no one notices the way your composure has slipped.

The recording session begins, and Jungkook’s voice fills the space, steady and rich, effortlessly slipping into the role of the narrator.

["From the brief meetings we shared, I found that she was a woman who walked on eggshells, carefully maintaining her image for the public, despite the wounds buried beneath layers of fabric, skin, and deep within her heart. The dead of winter held no meaning for her—it was merely a reminder of those who had already left..."]

You sit there, struck still.

His voice is captivating. Deep, intimate, carrying the weight of every word with precise control. It’s like he’s not just reading the lines…he’s living them, breathing life into Haneul in a way that feels almost too real. The room seems to shrink, the world narrowing down to the sound of his voice and the way it wraps around you, pulling you into your own story all over again.

The staff murmurs amongst themselves, impressed.

"His tone fits the male lead perfectly," someone comments.

"He’s got that quiet intensity," another agrees.

Next to you, Taehyung leans in, grinning. "Isn’t he good?"

You nod slowly, but as Jungkook’s voice continues to flow through the speakers—deep, smooth, and effortlessly intense—you feel a rush of warmth creep up your neck, spreading across your cheeks.

Shit.

You force yourself to look away, fixing your gaze on the script in your lap as if it holds the secrets of the universe. But the heat lingers, stubborn and undeniable, prickling at your skin. You swallow, praying that no one notices—especially not him.

After the recording ends at 7:30 PM, you, Taehyung, and the studio crew spill out into the warm evening air, the city lights casting a golden glow over the streets. The group makes its way to a nearby restaurant, a cozy but lively spot with wooden tables and the comforting aroma of sizzling food. The hum of conversations mixes with the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter, creating a warm, inviting atmosphere.

Plates of food quickly fill the table—crispy fried chicken, steaming bowls of tteokbokki, and an assortment of banchan that everyone eagerly digs into. Pitchers of beer are poured freely, and the mood is light, the kind of easy camaraderie that comes after a long but successful day of work.

Taehyung, always in his element when surrounded by people, is mid-story, waving an onion ring around as he speaks. His cheeks are slightly flushed, and his gestures are more animated than usual, a sure sign that he’s had a drink or two.

“The narration was amazing, right?” he exclaims, dunking the onion ring into a pool of ketchup with enthusiasm. “I mean, Jungkook just nailed it. Didn’t he?”

Mid-sip of your beer, you hum noncommittally, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah… well.”

Taehyung squints at you, his grin turning sly. “That doesn’t sound convincing.”

You set your glass down, shrugging a little too casually. “I mean, it was really good,” you admit, your voice a little too even, a little too careful. You’re not sure why you’re downplaying it, but something about admitting how much Jungkook’s performance affected you feels… dangerous.

Taehyung leans back in his chair, clearly not buying it. “I’ve been working with a lot of student interns at the university, and they say he’s ridiculously multitalented. It’s crazy that he’s not just looks,” he continues, his tone teasing.

You give a small nod, but your thoughts are already straying.

Back to the recording session.

Back to Jungkook’s voice.

It had been deep, smooth, and filled the space in a way that was almost too good. Every syllable had weight, sinking into your bones like warmth on a cold day. Soft yet sultry. Intimate in a way that felt excessive.

Hold on. Do you have some kind of… voice fetish?

Shit.

Your fingers tighten slightly around your glass. The thought alone makes your face burn. You swore off dating—hell, you swore off men—and now here you are, sitting at a bar, spiraling over some junior you just met. This is bad.

Taehyung must notice the way your expression shifts because he suddenly grins. “So, Bookworm, what have you been up to lately?”

The nickname makes you blink. It’s been ages since he called you that. He’s definitely tipsy.

“Just writing, working at Jimin’s café, and sometimes I travel,” you say, eager to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“You’ve clearly won at life!” Taehyung announces, lifting his glass like he’s toasting you.

“Won?” You laugh, shaking your head. “I just live a simple life, day by day. Lethargic and exhausted by passion.”

The words come out more honest than you intend, but Taehyung doesn’t seem to catch on.

But someone else does.

Jungkook.

You feel it before you see it—his gaze. When your eyes finally flick over, sure enough, he’s looking at you.

Not glancing. Not idly observing.

Looking.

Something about it makes your skin prickle. Not in a bad way. Not in a way you know how to name.

And yet, instead of breaking away, he holds it.

Your breath hitches.

You quickly turn back to Taehyung, willing your cheeks to cool, forcing your expression into something neutral. Jimin once told you that your eyes tend to wander when you’re deep in thought, but this is different. Why does Jungkook keep meeting them?

Is he curious about you? Just polite? Or worse—does he know?

Does he see how you’re reacting to him?

You shake the thought away, burying it under more beer.

It doesn’t matter.

You’ve been through enough to know that people like Jungkook—ones with easy smiles and a natural charm that makes everyone in the room lean in—are dangerous.

Because you’ve met someone like that before.

And it nearly destroyed you.

The alcohol isn’t helping now. It’s loosening your thoughts, making it harder to keep your guard up. You rub your temple, exhaling sharply, just as your phone buzzes in your pocket. You’re relieved for a distraction, until you see the name on the screen.

Jimin.

Of course.

You quickly stand, finger nearing to answer the call. “Hey, Taehyung, I’m gonna take this call.”

Taehyung raises a brow, his grin turning mischievous. “Jimin again? Man, you guys are always together. Are you dating or something?”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Honestly, it’s more like family. He’s an annoying older brother.”

Taehyung laughs, nodding. “That checks out.”

You step away from the table, the noise of the restaurant fading slightly as you press your phone to your ear. “Hey, what do you want—”

“Why didn’t you clean the basement yet?!” Jimin’s voice is sharp, cutting through the buzz in your head.

“Oh, fuck.” Your stomach drops. “Completely forgot. I’m at a work dinner.”

“The tenant’s stuff is coming in the morning,” Jimin says, his tone exasperated but laced with concern. “Where are you? I’ll drive and pick you up.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “The Tavern Grill, near the recording studio.”

“I know where that is,” Jimin replies quickly. “Just come outside so I find you more easily when I wait for you on the curb. I’m on my way.”

“Fine, fine. Let me say goodbye first,” you mutter, already heading toward the door.

As you weave through the tables, you can’t help but glance back at the group. Taehyung is laughing at something someone said, his arm slung over the back of his chair.

When you return, Taehyung gives you an exaggerated pout. “Jimin coming to drag you home now?”

“Something like that.” You roll your eyes, already grabbing your things. “He said he’ll pick me up.”

Taehyung laughs, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “Tell him we need to grab a drink sometime. My treat.”

You grin, saying your goodbyes to the others—some casual, some playful.

Then, just as you’re about to leave, you glance over—

And Jungkook is still watching.

His fingers drum idly against his glass. He doesn’t move, doesn’t call out. But his gaze lingers, like there’s something he wants to say but won’t.

Your stomach twists.

You don’t know what it means. And you don’t want to find out.

So you turn away, stepping out into the night.

Whatever it is, it’s not your problem.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

Jimin walks ahead of you as you both descend the stairs to the basement. The air gets cooler with each step, but something else lingers—an acrid, stale scent that makes your nose wrinkle.

You frown. “Did you smoke before picking me up?”

Jimin lets out a soft chuckle, barely glancing back. “Wow, you really have a sharp nose, Y/N.” Then, without warning, he reaches over and fluffs your hair, like you’re some small puppy that just sniffed out the right answer.

You groan, swatting his hand away. “You know I hate the smell of cigarettes, Jimin.”

“I know, I know. Just… let it slide for today,” he mutters, tone quieter now. “Had a bad day.”

You don’t push. Not yet, at least.

The basement door groans on its hinges as you step inside. The air is heavier down here, tinged with dust and disuse. Jimin reaches for the light switch and flicks it—

Nothing.

He sighs. “Great. Power’s probably cut off for this room since we barely use it. I’ll go check the breaker.”

You pull out your phone, switching on the flashlight. “I’ll start looking through things in the meantime.”

Jimin eyes you skeptically. “You’re really gonna be able to see anything with just that?”

You give him a pointed look. “That should be the least of your worries. I just don’t want to be cleaning all night.”

He shrugs. “Suit yourself. I’ll be back.” With that, he heads back upstairs, leaving you alone with the stillness of the basement.

The dim beam of your flashlight sweeps over the space. Piles of forgotten things are stacked haphazardly—old college notebooks, loose papers, manuscripts half-finished and never revisited.

And then—

Your stomach tightens.

That box.

It’s been shoved far away from the rest, as if even in storage, you wanted it out of sight. But it’s still here. A silent, patient thing.

You step closer. Your fingers hesitate over the worn edges of the lid.

Then, with a quiet breath, you open it. Inside, time folds in on itself.

Your fingers graze the first thing on top—a faded movie ticket stub. The edges are soft, curling, worn from being thumbed over too many times in the past. You remember this night. Your night. Seokjin had held your hand through the entire movie, whispering sarcastic commentary in your ear, making you laugh so hard the people in front turned around to glare. You’d buried your face in his shoulder, giggling, and he had just smiled like you were the best thing to ever happen to him.

Your throat tightens.

Beneath it, a polaroid. The two of you at some festival, Seokjin holding up a peace sign while you kissed his cheek. The colors have faded slightly, but you can still see how bright his eyes were, how effortlessly happy you had looked. You weren’t even thinking about the camera—just him.

You swallow hard.

All of these things mean something to you, or at least, they once did. But the longer you stare at them—the trinkets, the letters, the pieces of Seokjin woven into your past—the more you wonder if they ever meant anything to him. If he could leave so easily, so cleanly, then what were these memories even worth?

Can you really throw all of this away?

Your fingers hesitate over the box when you hear footsteps behind you.

Figuring it’s Jimin, you sigh, still lost in thought. “Hey, why didn’t you turn the lights back on? Is there something wrong with the breaker—?”

Before you can finish, you’re shoved, your back colliding against the wall with a thud. A strong grip pins you in place, pressing into your shoulders.

Your pulse surges.

“What the fuck!? Who are you—”

“Why are you rummaging through someone else’s shit, you thief?”

The voice is sharp, accusatory. And absolutely not Jimin’s.

Your breath catches.

And then, the lights flick on.

Your vision adjusts, and when you see who exactly has you caged against the wall, your stomach flips.

Jungkook.

Wait. Jungkook?

His dark eyes widen the second he recognizes you, hands retreating from your shoulders like he’s been burned. “Oh, fuck.” His voice drops into sheer panic. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t know it was you!”

You blink, still trying to process what just happened.

He looks mortified, hands hovering near you like he wants to check for injuries but doesn’t dare touch you again. “Shit, I didn’t hurt you, did I? Are you okay?”

You exhale, still slightly dazed. “Ah… it’s okay—”

“No, it’s not,” he interrupts, eyes flickering with concern. His fingers ghost over your arms, searching for any sign that he might’ve been too rough. His hold, once bruising, is now careful. Deliberate. “I grabbed you way too hard. Are you sure you’re fine, Sunbae?”

You look at him properly now, still catching your breath. Damn.

His face is stupidly attractive up close, his brows knitted in pure remorse. His scent—clean, like fresh laundry mixed with something slightly musky—hits you all at once, making your stomach do something annoying.

He’s exactly your type.

And that realization makes this moment so much worse.

“You’re Kim Jungkook, right?” you ask, breaking the silence.

Jungkook straightens, nodding quickly. “Yeah. Wait… you don’t remember me?”

He sounds almost offended, tilting his head slightly.

You furrow your brows. “Sorry, I’m not good at remembering names or people for that matter.”

He blinks, then lets out a scoff—part amused, part incredulous. “Seriously? I recognized you the second the lights came on, but you forgot about me?”

Your lips twitch. Is he really pouting?

Whatever. You’re still processing the fact that you just got manhandled by this guy. He needs to take about five steps back.

You cross your arms, clearing your throat. “What are you even doing here, anyway?”

“Oh.” Jungkook’s expression shifts, his stance relaxing as he rubs the back of his neck. “This is my studio now.”

Your stomach drops.

“…What?” Your mind stutters over his words.

His studio?

Your eyes drift over the scattered boxes, the dust-lined shelves, the scent of old paper and forgotten memories lingering in the air. When Jimin had mentioned a tenant renting the basement, you’d barely paid attention, brushing it off as another small change in your life. But standing here now—with Jungkook, of all people—the reality sinks in with an unsettling twist in your gut.

This is his space now?

Before you can fully process the implications, footsteps echo from the stairwell, followed by Jimin’s familiar voice.

“All right, the power’s back on—” He stops mid-step as he takes in the scene, his gaze flicking between you and Jungkook. His brows furrow slightly, his usual easygoing expression dimming with curiosity.

“Oh, you two have met,” he says, a little slower than usual. “Y/N, this is Jungkook—”

“I’m aware,” you interrupt, still distracted by the realization. “We met earlier today during the recording session.”

Jimin’s brows lift. “Oh?”

“But what are you doing here, sunbae?” Jungkook asks, his tone shifting to something lighter, more casual. “Do you live nearby?”

“I’m cleaning out some of my stuff down here for… well, you, apparently.” You exhale, motioning vaguely to the clutter around you. “I live upstairs.”

Jungkook blinks. “Wait, seriously?”

Jimin, however, is less surprised. He crosses his arms, fixing Jungkook with a sharp look. “But, dear tenant, what are you doing here?” His voice dips into something more pointed. “Didn’t you say you’d be here tomorrow at noon?”

Jungkook barely flinches under the scrutiny. “I had something to check on.”

Jimin eyes him for a moment before sighing and letting go of whatever was on his mind.

“Do you want any help?” Jungkook asks, turning back to you.

Your pulse spikes. Oh, God.

The last thing you need is him digging through your things—especially the one box tucked carefully behind you. The one filled with Seokjin’s remnants.

“No!” you blurt out, too quickly. His brows raise, but you force a casual shrug. “I’m good. I’m just going to throw it all away anyway.”

Jungkook hums, glancing at the mess. But then, his eyes catch on something.

A photograph peeks from the top of one of your boxes, slightly askew. Before you can move to block it, his gaze sharpens, lips curling into something almost unreadable.

“Then I can throw it all away for you,” he says, voice smooth but laced with something just a little too amused. He meets your eyes with a slow tilt of his head. “You don’t need it, after all. This place is mine now.”

Something about the way he says it—the lazy drawl, the faint glint in his gaze—rubs you the wrong way.

Your stomach tightens.

Just hours ago, he’d been nothing but polite, apologetic even. But now? There’s something else beneath the surface. A hint of something sharper, something laced with an unspoken edge.

Is this actually his true nature?

This doesn't sit right—yet, at the same time, you can’t shake the curiosity gnawing at the back of your mind. You know better than to let your guard down, but part of you is pulled in, drawn to the enigma that is Kim Jungkook.

And so, without knowing how or why, you find yourself standing at the beginning of something unexpected.

This is how your story with Jungkook begins.

– TBC?

a/n: if you decided to check out this story, thank you so much! feel free to give me your thoughts, questions, theories (yes, kim jungkook is intentional in this story and you'll know why if i continue this series hehe). jungkook is also the same age as reader but still in college (because he started college a bit late due to enlistment). also happy belated valentine's day. i meant to upload on valentine's day, but i got caught up in trying to make this more detailed.

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ check out my masterlist for other fics I have made

#bts fic #bts #yoongi x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bangtan #bts fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook smut #webtoon #jimin x reader #jin x reader #kpop fanfic #fanfic

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sunofpandora · 2 days ago

Text

V I R A G O

CHAPTER 6:

She was a bird, I was an arrow

✮⋆»»———➤⋆.˚꩜ ˙⋆ ☀︎ ✮⋆»»———➤⋆.˚꩜ ˙⋆ ☀︎

Neteyam x fem na’vi!omaticaya!reader

Characters:

Ka’lik- (like you would pronounce “Malik”) Y/n’s father/deceased

Zensira-deceased, Y/n’s mother, spider's adoptive mother

Kailo-(Y/n’s ikran. Your ikran is a male)

WARNINGS: panic attack, blood, heights, sexual assault???(Kyuna being touchy) attempts of undressing someone? (Again, Kyuna.)

☾✮⋆»»———➤⋆.˚꩜ ˙⋆ ☀︎ ☾✮⋆»»———➤

Neteyam POV:

When I was 15 I fell in love.

I fell in love with a girl made of moonlight and stars stitched together by sirenic hymns of pulsed passion.

She left loose curls in her braids and had bruised knees from climbing. She has auriferous, harvest moon eyes that glow viridescent when the night untangles itself from its resting place, aligned imperfectly with her stellified sunset-tinted soul.

I started by bringing her little things.

Flowers. Crystals. Herbs for various uses to share with her family. She danced at clan ceremonies, immune to the curse of incoordination. Her dark hair swung behind her, braids woven out of pieces of the night. She was a wild child. Running through rivers and daring to drive herself through the dullness of the dirt.

I knew that she never met her grandmother, but she wore the river pearl necklace that once belonged to her.

I knew that she loved swimming, and never really talked about how good she was at it.

I knew that she kept the dried petals from the little dolls her mother would make her out of flowers as a child and hung them above her hammock in her family's tent.

I knew that she made her first kill with a bow and arrow when she was 4. And that the tip of that very arrowhead was tied on her song chord to mark the occasion.

I knew that she was worried. Worried about me, about the human boy she called her brother, about her home, and her people, her parents who were still healing from the first war.

But I loved what I didn’t understand. That was my first mistake.

Because my whole life has been about being the older brother. When she gave me the gift of feeling like a child again, I suppose I thought I could leave her like one.

And I know that sounds stupid. I know I sound stupid.

It wasn’t immaturity I craved. It was that lightness. The kind that the sun could never provide.

That stupid, stupid boy. If I could grab him and shake him by his shoulders until his brain repositioned itself into the right place, I would.

There was an addicting absurdity to it all.

Running through the forest with her after dark, whispering her name in the night while my hands traced her spine, leaving lazy, open kisses on her ribcage and spinning her around with her legs caught around my waist. Dragging my fingers along her pulse point. Feeling her breath flicker in the firelight of the stars. I never dared to do anything beyond kissing her and holding her. So perhaps that boy isn’t as stupid as I thought.

I slept with her. Not like that, though. Actually sleeping. The kind where your clothes remained on. The first time it happened was when I stumbled to find her by the creek, where she was weaving a basket for her mother. I was so exhausted from training i collapsed my head into her lap while she stroked my back.

Sometimes I kissed her neck, the expanse of her throat where I swore I saw heaven hollowed within. I ran my hands over the sweet homage of her thighs.

There was a freedom with her I felt with no one else. Then the world felt too big, my heart created corners that only fit her shape. When the air became knotted and my breath spilled from my lungs in sporadic bouts of blemished air, she blessed me with a barrier of bliss. I thought I was so deserving of that decompression. I was an idiot to think it wasn’t a privilege.

Some nights we’d sit on the thickened tree branches of the pandora oak outside the old village.

She’d lean her head on my shoulder and i’d tell her the English names of the constellations my father taught me.

“What’s that one?”

She whispered, pointing with the tip of her finger and tracing the shape of the asterism, eywa knows I couldn’t look away from the stars in her eyes, an opalescence embedded like a sea mirroring the night’s contents, and suddenly I saw two skies.

“Its called the archer.” I hummed, gently guiding her wrist to place her hand atop the shaft of the bow caught in the cosmos.

“See? There’s her bow, and her arrow, and her body.”

She tilted her head, attempting to see the shape. Her eyes light up when she finds it.

I smile, a warmth spreads within my chest as my enamourment echoes through the dusk.

“My father says some people on earth started calling it a ‘virago’.”

She nods in acknowledgment, glancing between me and the stars.

Those were the nights I hope she can remember. Those are the nights I pray i never forget.

But sometimes the shadows loom instead of live. The world around me started breaking down into fragments that figmented themselves drunk on delirium. Because having my mother’s eyes doesn’t mean i’m free of my father’s gaze.

I was afraid of control. My second mistake was becoming accustomed to it.

But my chance with that fiery girl is gone. I’ll bury it. So I don’t have to look at it. So no one has to look at it. Because she deserves so much better than to chase fireflies for the rest of her life.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the night the sky turned red.

My father and mother had left for date night. I was home with Lo’ak, Kiri, and Y/n who as babysitting Tuk while her parents went to gather herbs.

We didn’t speak to one another. It was too awkward. I clung to silence like it was a sustenance for my survival.

Our parents had been gone for a few hours when we saw it.

A new star surfaced in the sky, tearing through the dark viciously. Sparing nothing in its path of annihilation.

An unfamiliar sort of fear fell upon Norm and Max’s face as they exited their shack at the sound of commotion. Their smiles faded so fast they might as well have never been there in the first place.

Kiri shrunk away slowly to an unknown place of hiding. As if trying to shield herself from the threatening presence of this bolide.

lo’ak dropped the bracelet he was making, the beads landing on the ground with scattered sounds of clanking and chaos.

Tuk ran to y/n, a panicked descry leaving her as she took refuge in her arms. Y/n held Tuk protectively. Her expression was notated by one of horror.

Me? I froze. The world stopped spinning. The moon refused to shine. The earth had withered away under my feet.

I was dazed as I followed my siblings into our families tent, I remember Norm’s words as he ushered us inside, trying to mask his panic.

“Kids, get inside- c’mon quickly.

Tuk, let’s play a game. Okay? Tuck your knees to your chest and don’t move until I come back.”

The world was falling apart.

And I couldn’t even see my last glimpse of it beyond the cloth quarters of the home I grew up in. That’s how you trap yourself. You convince yourself your cage is just an illusion.

When my parents returned home later, Y/n sprinted to them, asking frantically if they had seen her parents return.

“They haven’t yet returned?”

When my mother spoke those words, the air tensed.

I watched helplessly as she ran to her ikran, mounting it with no time to waste.

I reached for her arm, stammering out pleas for her to stay. Stay close to the stars that sent the shadows of the endless dusk desolating any shred of hope. Without them i’d surely loose her in the darkness. Stay in the light, please. Stay where I can see you. Where I know you are safe. Where I know they can’t take another. Stay where every moment was inscribed to instinct. Where every moment of my life is a piece of a plan. A plot. Every word is scripted. And even if you were never a part of it I can still keep your eyes in my life.

Stay with me. Please. I don’t know what’s out there and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.

She hissed at me with tears in her eyes, shaky hands pushing me away as she mounted Kailo with irascible mannerisms.

Behind it all was a little girl who just wanted to find her mom and dad.

I envy her. I envy her ability to not cower from the darkness.

To stand where others couldn't see.

My father chased after Y/n. Determined to bring her and her parents back in one piece. Promising my mother she wouldn’t loose anyone else she was close too.

But sometimes we can’t keep our promises.

I waited with my mother and my siblings.

I watched my mother pray. Clutching my grandmother’s hand close to her chest. Murmuring invocations to the wind. My mother couldn’t stall away the anxious inquisitiveness of Tuk, complying with her to shut herself away from the sharp helix-scarred sky, victim to fire and ruin.

“Wait inside, Tuk.”

That’s all anyone would tell her.

Lo’ak sat coiled in the corner. Staring infront of him as if the air was dissolving into fragments filmed in glass, shattering into pieces.

He was silent. Still. But he was like my father in that way. A master of disassociation. When you stayed so rooted in solitude the world around you ceased its spinning.

Kiri prayed in my grandmother’s tent. Isolating herself.

What more can you do when what you thought were stories of the past resurrect from devastation?

History was cruel. Our biggest mistake was thinking the future would forget.

Would it forgive? Would it tread this demolition generously? Would it spare my mother from losing a sister for teh second time? Would it let my father laugh just a bit longer? Let him remain unpunished. Maybe in a world where the heart on his sleeve isn’t in the shape of a shackle. Where the shadows of his past sins remain silent. When ‘sir’ wasn’t a synonym for ‘dad’.

Please. Let my littlest sister play in the forest after dark again. Chasing winged insects and dancing to heartbeats. Let her feel the solace of safety and the freedom of frolicking in the flower fields without fear of the sky demons. Don’t make her grow up knowing war. Give her a world where I don't have to explain that Dad still loves Lo’ak and me even after yelling at us.

Don’t take my little brother's light away. Don’t shy him away from me. let me see the spark flicker in his eyes when he would look up at me. Bring back the days of chasing him around and having our heights measured next to each other. Childhood memories of keeping him occupied with stories while he squirmed on my mother's lap, getting his hair rebraided. Back when I was his sibling. Not his shadow. Now I can’t find it when my existence is the pinnacle of excellence that’s dangled over his head. To fall as the burning star while he damns me in the daylight of the sun. Days when my father's words to Lo’ak were filled with tender devotion, and not deadlines and demands and disappointment. Look at him. Please. Don’t turn your attention into a privilege.

And Kiri. Oh kiri. Please. Don’t twist her story. Don’t write my sister’s mother into the enemy. Don’t make the sleeping body she yearns to touch beyond her hand pressed to cold glass awake in darkness only to say goodbye. The only place solace is found for Kiri, the only place she can hear her voice within the deep forest. Don’t resurrect Grace’s memory and taint it.

Please don’t hurt the girl I’m in love with. Please don’t banish the stars in her sky to the depths of the hollowed and hardened corridors of her heart. What must I do to protect her? Tell me, and tell me now. I’m running out of time. Do i look her in her eyes and tell her that every breath i take is for her? Every half-note of my heartbeat is a syllable in her name. I know I failed her. I know. And im sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

I paced around the tent, watching Tuk play with her toys in the corner, waiting for any sign of return.

When the shadow and the screech of my father’s ikran, the rising sun rushing currents of a blinding white light leaking through the overlay of the trees, crashed into the sounds shaping themselves into shards, slicing through the air.

My father had his arm thrown over y/n’s shoulder, locking her in place against his chest, she crouched on the front of his ikran, shaking and thrashing.

His other hand gripped his ikran saddle like a vice, struggling to keep both him and Y/n upright in flight.

The moment the touch down to the village y/n all but collapses to the ground, slipping out of my fathers grasp.

He curses, jumping off and scrambling to hold her. A low wail leaves y/n as she claws and scratches at her own skin, clutching what looks like the remnants of a songchord in her hand.

No sign of her parents. That only meant the worst.

It hits me like a blow to my chest, creeping up my spine like vines of plants from hell and tying me down to the earth, roots caging me in, the world around me clawing to come inside.

Everything around me blurs. The ground under me shifts with the wind. The patterns reverse and the sound waves reshape themselves behind shadows.

Light is refracted, captured in a dome of reflections. My mother is the first to sprint towards the pair. Her steps slowly traipsed down as she registered the absence of Zensira and Kai’lik.

The sight of Y/n clutching a bloodied song chord shattered any ounce of hope she had.

My mother sobbed into her palm, rushing towards Y/n to grasp at her shoulders, desperately trying to keep her close, as if the sky demons would rip her straight out of her arms.

My grandmother jogs over, trying to cage her daughter in her arms and gradually pull her away, giving Y/n the much-needed space.

My father has tears in his eyes.

He doesn’t dare let them fall. Not in front of his clan. His children.

My father is a master of disassociation. Confrontation was never a confidant of my fathers. Lock him in a room with him and his own grief and watch him fall apart.

He's angry. Angry at the world. Angry at himself. Angry at this piece of his past he prayed he’d never see again.

Lo’ak drops frantically, taking a place behind y/n and my father, trying to speak to her in hushed tones that are washed out by her cries. Lo’ak isn’t good with these kinds of things. But he cares for her. He struggles with the placement of his hands momentarily, settling to rub her back soothingly.

Tuk pushes past the crowd forming in the distance, and scampering behind me, gently placing her palm on my leg and tugging on my fingertips.

“What's wrong? Whys’ everyone crying?”

I don’t answer. I can’t answer. I can’t even look at her. I’m still. I’m frozen. I’m useless.

She winces at the sound of more wailing, pushing herself to stand in front of my father.

I know I should speak. Tell Tuk to go back inside. Away from the screaming and the crying. That’s what older siblings do. I feel her small fingers slip away from mine and suddenly my skin feels as if it's unraveling.

I don’t think yesterday existed.

Because just yesterday I saw Y/n and her parents, with Spider and with the clan. Just yesterday the sky was blue. Today it dawns a sickening shade of orange. The sky dissevered and swallowed it whole before it could even breathe.

How can it change so fast? Did it slip away from me? Maybe I didn’t hold on to it tight enough. Please, my love. I’m sorry. Can’t you see I’m sorry? Please hold onto me again and I swear I'll never let you go again.

I look at Y/n again, still trying to pry herself out of my father’s grasp. One hand clutches her forearm and digs and scratches her fingers into the flesh so manically it draws blood. Her other hand clawing at the dirt. She starts to hyperventilate as my father panics.

“Breathe Y/n. You have to breathe. Please.” My father’s voice is hoarse and desperate. The world is spinning to fast for him meanwhile mine ceases to spin at all.

Or maybe that’s incorrect. My world was right infront of me. Crying and breathing as if her lungs denied her existence.

Tuk’s whimpering catches his attention, his ears pin down as he grapples with the idea of his youngest baring witness to such tragedy.

Then those frantic golden eyes that mirror my own focus on me.

“Neteyam! Take your sister inside. Now! go! “

I can’t. I’m stuck. Why am i stuck? Iv’e always been the first to act. The first to speak, to advocate, to defend.

What will happen to my clan? To my family? Can we win again? Will we win again? Are we as strong as we were during the first war?

“Neteyam! Get Tuk and move!”

My fathers voice is drowned by the swirling thoughts in my head.

My father places Y’n beside Lo’ak, who immediately wraps an arm around her to keep her upright.

“Dad!”

Loa’k calls after him as he files towards me. His voice cracks.

He scoops tuk up with one arm, using his other to grab my arm, dragging us both into the tent, pushing us inside with all the gentleness he could manage.

“Stay with your sisters and your mother. Please.”

He breathes before leaving, returning to Y/n.

My mother is sobbing in the corner, Kiri at her side with tears streaming down her cheeks.

Grandmother tries to calm them both.

“Eywa why? Why has the past come back to us?”

She curls herself into a fetal position as she cries out as if she's in physical pain.

Tuk starts to cry.

The earth is weeping and my family is shattered. The love of my life is left in a starless night sky.

Can the sun shine in the dusk?

✮⋆»»———➤⋆.˚꩜ ˙⋆ ☀︎ ☾✮⋆»»———➤⋆.˚꩜ ˙⋆ ☀︎ ☾✮⋆»»———➤

“If you can’t smell the fletching you aren’t doing it right.”

Y/n smacks my chest for the 8th time that hour. My lessons with her had finally begun, per my father’s orders.

And after thinking about it, i’m grateful my father chose me for this position. so what if I enjoy spending time with her? And I can’t say I despise hearing her make demands and orders and instructions.

Is that weird? Am I weird for that?

She sighed in frustration, staring at me like the hopeless case i was.

“Really? you have these freakishly big arms and no posture.”

I frown, patting my bicep pitifully.

“They’re called muscles.”

“Then use them. Straighten up.”

She elbows me in the ribs.

I take a breath, tracing her slightly faded form with my peripheral vision as I prepare to be denied of her essence in my line of sight, even for just a moment as she steps behind me.

I correct my stance, shooting the arrow as it flies through the woven targets shes created and tied to the tree.

She examines my shot, running her fingers over the painted circle and where my arrow has skewered itself embed. It was perfect. Right at the center.

“Better.”

She affirms, yanking it out of the target and tossing it to my feet.

“We have to practice angles. Its clear you can shoot a bow, quite well at that. But it’s different when you’re transitioning into targets that are at sky-level with you.”

Today, she trains me to become an archer like her and my mother, to learn the skills to eventually shoot down sky demon ships.

I reach behind me to let my bow hang on my back, the string brushing my torso.

“Will the transition take long?”

She shurgs.

“It depends. It’s different from using a bow on foot or on a direhorse, even on ikran from low distances. It’s not like sturmbeast hunting. The rush, the wind, the air, it all screams at you while you shoot from the sky. The last thing you want is to be fumbling around for an arrow while a gunned ship chases you.”

She speaks absentmindedly as she gathers the targets from the tree, untying the ropeshes used to secure them.

I smile to myself, watching the way her hands work around the intricate knots she’s created.

“I’m a fast learner. I’m sure I’ll catch on.”

She scoffs, looking over her shoulder.

“Don’t shower me with proclamations, I’m confident in your archery skills. It's the change of pace that’ll become an impediment.”

I think sometimes Y/n assumes I harbor this overabundance of cockiness. I don’t. I never have. But i guess that’s what happens when you’re is away from someone for a long time. You forget.

Her gaze explores the thickened grass woven into a makeshift target as she starts to pile them into the big pouch she brought them in. The air around us spreads and forms an exterior of foreign feelings. I don’t reject the atmosphere it provides.

Treading lightly, I slowly take a step towards her.

“You are a good teacher.”

I say matter-of-factly. I’m stalling. I don’t want my time with her to end.

She scoffs, refusing to spare me a glance.

“I’m a terrible teacher, I’m a good shot and I order other warriors around when your father wants me to. People see that and assume my teaching skills are just as good.”

I shrug, leaning against a tree, reaching out to take the sack off her hands for a moment. She gave me it reluctantly. She takes a seat on the tree stump, tossing her head back before looking back at me, waving her hand in a downward motion.

“Sit for a moment. It’s important to rest your muscles after training. There’s nothing worse than straining your shooting arm.”

I huff out a quiet laugh. I sink against the tree across from her. “Well if you insist.”

She shakes her head.

“I don’t. But the cramps you’ll avoid in your biceps arms definitely do.”

I watch as her fingers trace the curvature of the arrowhead, the sun sliced over the ridges in the small objects surface, rounding over the curves and patterns in the stone.

“How would you feel about heading back without me?”

She asks; not even glancing at me as she opens her water flask, taking a few sips out of it and cursing quietky when she tilts the pouch too far back and some water spills down her chin to her neck, the unwelcomed sudden sensation making her shudder.

She hands me the flask, offering some water but all i can do is gawk at her words.

“To high camp? No. We should stay together.”

I shake my head, gently declining her offer of water and muttering a thank you.

It’s her turn to gawk now. Staring at me as if i have three tails.

“I have my bow.”

She gestures to the weapon next to her, the curved wood carved with patterns and bright beads and feathers adorining it.

“I’ll be fine on my own.”

I know she hates beinhg chaperoned or supervised. So i allow the sounds of the forest to symphonize while i devise something to respond with. The sewn sky is torn at the seams as clouds creep by. Something with feathers moves in the distant canopy.

“Why? Don’t you want to return with me?”

It’s not you. I just don’t want to go home yet.”

“Than who is it?”

She’s quiet for a moment, fidgeting with her songchord to busy her hands.

“Spider.”

That was honestly the last thing I expceted to hear.

By the time Spider could walk-

Well, really, i doubt the guy ever went through a ‘first steps’ phase. He probably just started running.

By the time he could preform some kind of motion with his legs that incorporated standing up and getting him from one place to another, Y/n’s parents had pretty much accepted him as their child.

That was his ticket to having the full na’vi child experience. He had a songchord, a bow, was taught the history of the clan through stories and songs. He loved them, and mourned them when their time came. Y/n and him have always been close, and since the past tragedy, it’s not hard to say that they’ve fought to keep eachother in their lives. Especially when my parents ushered y/n to live with our family, and leaving spider with norm and max. Because whether others believe spider belongs with our people or not, she’s never known a world where he’s not there. It’s a scale that shouldn’t be tipped. One will surely loose balance without the other.

I blink, sitting up as my head cocks to the side.

“Spider? Why? What did he do?”

IS it wrong for me to assume spider is the one at fault for whatever quarrel is proceeding?

No. At least i don’t think so. I actually think it’s pretty fair.

She groans, running her palms down her face, the skin under her eyes being dragged downwards under her fingertips.

“He’s just so- and then he- and he just- and he-”

She shakes her fists furiously as if shes strangling something invisible.

I wince.

“I don’t think that will improve his current situation with the air on this planet.”

“I’m ready to take the mask and shove it where it won’t see air again.”

“Woah there.”

She sighs roughly, absently throwing a small rock into a bush.

“Why doesn’t he ever think before doing stupid shit?”

“Well the shit wouldn’t be stupid if it was properly considred.”

She mumbles to herself, waving me off.

I place my hand on the stump next to me to shift myself to lean back against the tree further.

“Y/n, I know things can be rough with siblings. Trust me, i know. But-”

“Can i tell you something that will sound horrible?”

My sentence is stifled as she hinders it with her quiet, rueful words.

I fumble for my next words.

“Uh yeah. Yes. yes of course.”

I wave my palm towards her in a stupidly clumsy ‘the floor is yours’ motion.

When someone wants to vent, count on me to turn the atmosphere into one of an addiction confrontation.

But my eywa, she wants to talk to me about her problems. ME! Not lo’ak, but me! Does that mean she trusts me?

She looks down, the light spills down through the overbush of the trees, casting a hazy halo upon her figure, golden-crested shadows flirt with her azure skin. The sunlight feels shallow today. Melancholic and hollow. The sun is silenced as it slips behind a cloud. Buried beneath a grey eclipse.

“He’s not one of us. He’s my family but he’s not the same as me, not even the same species. but he wasn’t-”

She hesitates.

“His people were never suppose to come here. To this planet. He can’t run as fast as us, fall from heights where we can and just come out unscathed, he’s not as big, as strong, as durable and adaptable as us! He’s not a na’vi! And as much as i wish I could make that his reality, I can use all the blue paint in the world and It won’t make him as tall as me. I can’t-.”

Her voice cracks at the endnotes, it’s only noticeable if you listened closely. it makes my ears pin back, itching to aid this burden.

“I can’t keep drawing circles around him and begging him to stay inside of them.”

Sometimes soulmates aren’t lovers. They’re siblings. Tied at the roots. Whether they were related by blood or not, they carried a piece of eachother. Even when the world tears them apart, that piece binds that root back to common ground. Energy is only borrowed. And one day, you’re gonna have to give it back.

If i were to loose Tuk, Lo’ak, or Kiri, the energy we’ve shared would circle back to where it started. And that root would retreat back to it’s spiral shape. That’s what life entails at the center of your circle. You would die for your siblings at the end of the day, and if they take the shapes of stars you search for them in the lengths of the sky.

Her tail coils around her ankle, poking at the bracelet that circled around the skin.

“Y/n, we can’t protect them forever.”

She curls herself into a ball, letting her weight drag her to the ground so that she lays bundled, her arms locked around her knees. Groaning and hissing loudly.

“I don’t want to protect him forever i just want him to stop trying to kill himself.”

“I don’t think that’s his intention, Y/n..”

I poke at her back, attempting to push her upwards with my palm so that she doesn’t faceplant in the dirt.

She mumbles, And if I was anything but a foot farther away I probably couldn’t hear her.

“When we were children he was so small… small-brained…And now he's still small, but bigger..but still fucking smaller than me..but he’s older…”

“..and?”

“His brain hasn’t gotten any fucking bigger. I’m going to take up alcoholism.”

“Please don’t.” I sigh,

“You can’t stop me. I’m going to drink until I forget.”

Oh how beautifully eloquent she is when shes loosing all sense of sanity...

“Y/n, he lives in the same camp as us. You’re going to wake up and remember.”

I rock my knuckles against her spine, still trying to have her body avoid the fresh dirt.

She stares into the cup of her palm. My eyes catches glimpses of the shadows kept sacred in the corridors of the covers that cover her body, the dip of her hips, the drag of her nape, the cinch of her waist, the plush of her thighs and stomach. She’s soft right now. Her muscles aren’t tensed and her stomach isn’t lined.

I’m quiet as i stare at my shins, my fingertips brushing against her other hand.

“Do you remember the other night, when we all talked about scars?”

Her tail flicks, signaling that even if she wasn’t looking at me, i knew she was listening.

“Scars are symbols. They stay with us wherever we go, reminding us of where we’v e been, how we’ve gotten there..how we survived.”

I stare up at the trees, my eyes catching the shapes casting shadows over the leaves.

“Well, I’ve been thinking that some scars don’t appear over time, sometimes we’re born with them.

Her muscles tense and she pensively clutches at her song chord. I almost take it as a sign for me to just shut up. But i can’t. The words just seem to find me.

“You..”

I stare at her. My gaze tracing lines over the patterns imprinted into her back. Somedays i think pieces of her essence are torn from the scars, blemishes, bruises, and slight discolorations that stretch across her skin. Bruises that overlap ultraviolet hues darkened into navy nights, blemishes that I swear are just painstrokes from outer space, shapes imitate cosmic rays and lunar surfaces, opulent nebulae and collisions of stars that would surely cower before her.

She is made out of pieces of the universe.

Salvageable stretches of sunlight. Crystal blue, sun-kissed acquiescence of July. Cherished adventures stained in ink delight

Refusing to wither away even when seasons change and when snow i’ve never seen turns to falling stars.

Violent sunsets, whispers, and the oceans start to sink. I consider myself equally submerged.

“You are just..so strong. You’ve always been responsible for him. You both have grown up under the same roof, you can find that common ground. You both share that circle. Those scars from your experiences..you both can’t escape that.”

Silence settles between us, my arm drapes over my propped up leg.

“It’s not wrong of you to say he doesn’t belong here. Because there’s truth to that. Our home was never meant for his kind, and maybe it never will be.

But if i know one thing, I know that he belongs with you. You’ve stood on that common ground with him through what might as well have been an earthquake, but you’re still here. He owes you that.”

She shakes her head, sitting up quickly, her words catch in her throat.

“But that’s exactly where i seem trapped. He doesn’t owe me. It’s my job, it’s my own commitment! When my parents were still around i swore to stay by his side.”

“You were no older than 6 when you probably grasped the idea that he was there in your home to take the place of a sibling. Y/n, you didn’t swear anything. I wish you wouldn’t bind yourself to this idea-”

“I’m not binded to anything. I am proud to protect my people.”

“Someone once asked me if i’m so busy protecting everyone else, who protects me.”

She stills. Surprised that i’m quoting her.

When the world becomes a sword, she became a shield.

She purses her lips, tugging on a braid that rests over her shoulder.

“That’s different.”

I laugh. Not because its funny. Because its ironic.

“How? You, me, and two dumb, reckless siblings to look after. Lo’ak and spider aren’t that different. Suppose that means neither are we.”

She leans back, her head roughly resting on the bark.

I take a breath, leaning back with her.

“Letting go of that bind doesn’t mean giving up.” I whispered. Staring up at the sky, watching as it creeped and treaded towards a crepuscular cape.

“I know”

She whispered, leaning her head opposite of my direction to rests on her shoulder.

“But he’s all i have left.”

She rasps, looking downwards once again.

My fingers brush hers. I try to focus my eyes on anything but her. The burnished bronze bark shades of the forest around me grapples with my gaze.

I know she hates pity.

A fleeting fracture, half exposed, and bare. Bones shaking under scared skin stretched over a blanket of shame. I think weakness is her greatest enemy. Vulnerability is nothing but a pallid guise of weakness’ tide. In obdurate grace, She stands elate. I’m nothing more than a shadow in the corner of her storms.

She’s an ocean I fear is too vast to cross. I've let myself drown before.

“Y/n. I’m so sorry.”

I whisper. But as apologetic as I am, I can’t decide what I’m apologizing for.

Her parents being dead?

Her crippling fear of losing what fragile pieces of her family she had left?

The specters of her lost, an elegy of ceaseless pain. It forces me to remember I'm presumably forgotten, along with the stars and the sky I once promised i’d give her.

As the sky grew a bit darker. We sat in a silence that danced with serenity.

the clouds like shredded silk, tinged with the delicate hues of a bruise that would never fade.

It was me she trusted in this moment. Not Lo’ak coming in clutch with bad jokes or my father with years of experience I can only pray I’d amount to earn.

Me. Who’s soul took the shape of a shadow that loomed in the darker corners of her heart.

What did I do to deserve this?

As I look at her now-, Y/n.

The y/n.

the woman who had walked through infernos that would have incinerated lesser souls, whose spirit had been forged in the crucible of war, who bore scars both visible and unseen. Her eyes, shadowed by a thousand skies and golden eclipses, had softened now, their fierce gleam dimmed for a brief moment of vulnerability, her very presence carrying the weight of bereavment.

The sky and I share a flicker of breath, as though it too understood the gravity of the moment.

I want to capture her words with my hands, catch them.

These words of hers, the ones I can only beg to hear once again, alike the essence of something rare and blackened, with sorrow yet magnificent in its pain. She spoke of battles fought not just against the sky demons, but against creatures that lurked in the recesses of her mind, devouring fragments of her peace. The blood she had spilled is not foreign but it rots all the same.

At the cost of being blunt, it fucking pisses me off. Beyond that if I can ever find the words.

How could they-

No. How could anyone hurt her?

How could anyone take what they’ve taken from her and continue to reach for what precious circle of family she had left?

How could anyone—any hand—have so defiled such sanctity? faceless figures, cowards. Fighting from far away in the sky ships that stir the wind and attempt poorly to glide upon air that was never even theirs to breathe.

I want to be the shield that keeps her safe, and at from the storms that sweep her away and leave her with scars.

I don’t want to watch her fight for the rest of my life-

Please. I don’t want her to fight for the rest of hers.

Is this where I have to stay? Is this where I have to wait?

I am consumed by an ardor so profound it defies the very essence of language.

No. No, I'm done waiting.

I’ve dispensed myself in my mistakes for 3 years. I may never entirely forgive myself for what I’ve done to her, but I refuse to keep drowning myself in it.

I want to live. Not survive off her faint glances and light touches.

No I want her. I want her back and I want her to be mine.

How could I ever think I could move on? That I could outgrow her? The thought of any other woman in the clan-

No, any other female known to this ground, to want any of them the way I want her, it’s wrong. It’s unnatural. A parallel that threads like a citadel, a monument of sinew and steel, fissures spider webbing beneath My skin, cracks through which light might enter or shatter me under her touch.

And eywa, I’m tired of it. I’m so fucking tired of it. How much longer will I be consumed by this need that cannot be satiated by any other presence other than hers?

I want to hear her laugh again. I want to hold her again. I want to kiss her neck and trace my palms down the curve of her waist and her thighs. I want to hear her call my name breathless into the darkness while I capture her moans with my lips and watch her hair spill through my fingers.

I want to hold her hand. I want to kiss her until I can’t breathe. I want to feel the weight of her on top of me and under me and her legs wrapped around my waist.

If she allowed me I would beg her on my knees. I would kiss her ankles up to her hairline and whisper apologies that sound more like worship.

I want her to pull me away. I want to drown in her.

Can she possibly know? Her absence is not a void but a presence—vast, unbearable, and omnipotent—filling every crevice of thought, every trembling nerve that dares to remember. Her voice lingers in the silence, a phantom melody that unspools endlessly. she might as well be a rope to my wrists, tightening like a noose.

I don’t s resist her. Even torment is preferable to the sterility of forgetting, to the annihilation of what remains of her in me.

How could she possibly not understand? The things I would do for her?

I would crawl through dirt and dust and call it scared ground if she so much as stepped there. What is love if not worship and what is yearning if not devotion?

Because she’s so beautiful. She’s pretty. She’s gorgeous. She’s perfect. She’s every word I can think of and all the words I’ve yet to learn.

So much so it’s almost otherworldly. i stand before like a penitent before an altar that will never grant me absolution. if this longing is a sickness in my soul, i'm going to cherish it because it's hers.

Watch as she unmakes me. Slowly, exquisitely—dismantling my pride, my reason, my very humanity, until nothing remains but the hollow echo of her name. And I would call that emptiness sacred.

If anger is what she needs so be it. betray me, despise me, reduce me to carrion before her feet.

Must I weep for gratitude? for even in degradation? Done.

I will wait.

“I don’t like just waiting here.” The silence that had once reigned was shattered. Unveiling the world anew, pulling the soul from its slumber. I’m shaken awake from my momet of zoning away. It doesn’t take me long too realize it was Y/n’s voice. Well obviously- who else could it have been? the tree?

“Huh? I’m sorry- did you speak?”

She squints at me. Her eyes flicker before she stands to her feet.

“I said I don’t like this waiting. I should have never suggested it. I’m sorry.”

She brushes herself off before grabbing her bow and the woven bag of targets, slinging her bow to tuck under her arm and the sack over her shoulder. I scramble to my feet, grabbing my own bow and water skin.

“It was stupid of me to try to avoid this- i’m just gonna talk to spider when i get back.”

She mumbles.

“Oh- wait. Eywa you’re fast.”

I chuckle awkwardly. All she can do is toss me a blank glance over her shoulder. She moved swiftly, not making much if any sound.

I stop infornt of her, reaching out to offer her my free arms to carry the bag.

“Do you need-”

“No. lets get moving. I want to get you back before dark or else your father will have a heart attack scare.”

She cuts me off, swaying past me and onto the path where ouyr ikrans perched somehwre ahead.

“You know-”

I jog behind her, casually steadying myself to match her pace.

“You know my father doesn’t need to know where i am every second of the day.”

She shrugs.

“And yet, he does.”

Touche.

Brush it off Neteyam. I mean, how bad would it really be if the woman you were in love with saw you as nothing but a marionette tethered pathetically to his father?

Oh. That sounds worse than i thought.

Easy fix? Right? …Right?

“He’s just looking out for you.”

She enlightens, with a quiet precision, each word a steady beat, unadorned by excess or hesitation.

My whole life i've wanted people to see past the shadow of my father. But now i’m begging her to.

Why can’t she see the me that has shaped with my own hands, not inherited or molded by the past.

I riven between the maddening urge to captivate and the harrowing awareness of my own profound inadequacy. She, an indomitable presence, even though i've known her since she was learning to walk, is still so fascinatingly intimidating.

“I don’t-”

I stumble over a branch. Was it a branch? It could have been a root or a rock. Whatever it was. I lurch forward before unevenly shifting, then I awkwardly brushed it off, pretending it hadn’t happened.

She stops and stares at me. Painfully unimpressed with my lack of attention to the ground.

I clear my throat, trying not to wince.

“I don’t need him to look after me.”

She shrugs, walking ahead of me without much thought. “Well of course not. Look at how gracefully you coordinated that fall.”

“I didn’t fall.”

“Are you calling me blind.”

“No part of my body other then my feet touched the ground. That’s not a fall. It’s a…stammer.”

I cross my arms, suddenly my gaze finds interest in the bright colors that crowd a herb patch near by.

“Oh and what a beautiful stammer it was.”

She rolls her eyes, effortlessly shifting everything in her arms to only one side as she raises two fingers to her lips and create a whistle sound.

I see a shape of something winged and large in the distance. A cacophony of colors and jagged lines, and abstract forms are layered atop one another, intermingling and overlapping in a way that feels both disorienting and captivating

The sounds of flapping wings resonate from afar, an unseen presence demands attention by echoing the sound of it’s arrival. Kailo lands first, followed by rey’sa.

Kailo was larger than the average ikran. That’s what Norm told us the night after Y/n’s ikinimya.

I still remember that day. Watching her dodge and duck away from the literal jaws of death on the ikran rookery. I saw her, and in that fleeting moment, my soul seemed to abandon me, leaving flesh frozen as I watched her plummet off the cliff side. My heart might as well have been ripped from my chest. It felt as though stricken with some fatal malady, ceased to beat. A dire, unshakable certainty gripped me—that she was gone. as good as dead. That she had slipped from the grasp of light.

Kailo’s colors seem to pulsate with a tumultuous vibrancy. Bold and garish in their audacity, writhe and clash which burn with an almost sacrilegious intensity, to the shrieking blues and grotesque purple, the hues seem to scream at the beholder, drowning the senses in a discordance of visual tumult.

a gnawing sense of impotence. They spill, uncontained, stretching and sprawling, as though in the midst of some violent outpouring of emotion or thought. Jagged, fractured red lines pierce the air, juxtaposed by sweeping curves, both jagged and fluid in their simultaneous grace and aggression.

The spread of red, blue, and purple creates a furor of colors, intermingling and overlapping in a way that feels both disorienting and captivating.

My eyes, without any conscious volition, as if led by some hidden magnetism, gravitated toward Rey’sa. Her brown, green, and yellow skin clash in a manic strife. The splashes of brown are deep and earthbound. It pushes it’s weight against the lighter, more volatile green, incessant, and vibrant, it twists and coils in unruly shapes, as though struggling to break free from the heavy grasp of the brown. Meanwhile, the yellow flashes like a burst of lightning, crackling with energy.

She shakes her head back in forth in a quick wild nutation before tiltidng her head towards me, a high noted-shrill leaving her as if informing me of her arrival.

I give her neck a few pats, tightening my saddle with one hand while I throw myself to straddle atop, hiking up my leg and shifting in a slight jump.

Y/n doesn’t mount until she secures the targets and her bow in her side saddle, handling it with the utmost care. As if parting with it was akin to severing a vital thread that tied her soul to her body.

There was a quiet dominion everywhere she went. Trailing her steps. In her orbit, the air became sanctified. Her back straight as if someone held a board to it to ensure it never faletered from it’s position.

I mount rey’sa after ensuring everything was fastened. I reach back for my kuru. The movements to connect my kuru to my ikran are so unmistakably ingrained. Practiced and performed to a point of cognitive habituation.

The moment I see the cords connect, I feel it.

The traverse vast expanse between us thinning into a network that flows effortlessly, a seamless exchange of synapses that make the sound of sensitive reverberations. It’s an undercurrent of synergistic sensations.

I shake my head to clear up the swift headrush that swept through when making the bond, my vision clearing almost instantly.

I turn to my side, seeing y/n already staring at the sky with a quiet resolve.

“I’m going to talk to him when we get back.”

She looks at her hands, they almost bruise with how tightly she grips the reigns. Her gaze is suffused in a promise that I feel proud to say she only shares with me.

“Good.you two should work things out.”

She nods, shifting, adjusting her legs.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

She shrugs.

“Talking sense into me.”

I laugh. But I don’t mean to. It’s accidental. It echoes between us

“Nothing makes sense when you have stupid reckless people like Lo’ak or spider in your life.”

If only she knew things only ever made sense when I was with her.

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊

NETEYAM POV; back at high camp..

When we arrived back at high camp, I watched y/n run off to wherever spider was, leaving me alone to return the targets to the supply tent.

I should have told her right there and then. Why didn’t I?

I linger in my self-pity for only a moment, then steady myself, refocusing on the task at hand. I start putting the targets back and their respective places. Behind me, the faint sound of a new presence disrupts the silence.

The steps are quiet, as if treading.

“Finally, Lo’ak. Come help me put these away.”

I wave him over without turning my head

“Guess again..”

I jump. In all the year’s iv’e lived with Lo’ak, Iv’e never known him to have a voice so feminine sounding.

I turn, and I feel my breath leave my body in a flicker.

Kyuna stands in front of the tent flap, with one methodical move she uses her finger to tie the drawstring of the flap closed, the sudden lack of light making this whole endeavor even more horrifying.

her presence lingers, a silken thread weaving through the space between us.

“My eywa, you’re so jumpy, Teyam.”

Here’s a fun fact. No one in the entire clan I’ve been born and raised in, calls me ‘teyam’ other than my siblings and occasionally my mother. The sobriquet came about when Lo’ak was about 3, and had trouble pronouncing “Neteyam”. Net or Teyam was his go-to. Honestly I never understood how hard it was to just push the two together but anyways,

When Kyuna uses its imbued with a sense of familiarity and ease, felt unmerited. A familiarity that hasn’t been earned. Much less deserved.

Is it fair? To say something as simple as a shortened version of my own name to be so intimate?

My subconscious drive takes the shape of a marionette. Instinctively moving me backwards the split second she steps forward, her chest invading what I’m positive marks the starting point of “personal space.”

It’s almost like my body repulses the idea of touching her in any way that could even immediately be seen as intimate.

“I finally caught you alone. You’re always so busy..”

She makes her fingers mimic a walking motion as they trail up my chest, neck, before tapping my nose.

I clear my throat, grabbing her wrist and gently placing it back at her side.

“Kyuna this doesn’t seem very-“

“Oh shut up! You’re always so worried about everything. Can you ever let loose?”

She laughs, almost manically, trying despairingly to make her constant interruption seem cute or innocent.

”speaking of loose.”

My eyes flicker down to where she hooks a finger under the waistband of my knife, pulling me closer to her. almost trying to pry her way between where the woven strip of fabric keeps my loincloth resting on my hips.

My eyes widen.

“Nope! Okay! That’s just- nope. No. We are not. I’m going to remain clothed. Thank you..”

I push her away by her shoulders this time.

She Rolls her eyes.

“You’re so stiff sometimes”.

Stiff. Interesting choice of words.

As she bats her eyelashes at me and pouts, I can’t decide whether I feel sad or sorry for her. Or both. Is my attention worth all this? Does she think this is attractive?

Unfortunately, I don't think I have the patience to indulge her.

“Kyuna this is not-“

I sigh, running a hand down my face. Frustrated at what part of that incredibly, small brain in her head thinks that this is okay??

“Kyuna you can’t be doing this. I don’t want to be seen as someone who sneaks around with anyone like this.”

“No one has to know.”

“Right! Because nothing is happening here.”

I speak slowly, as if trying to explain to a small child, holding her hands as I place them down at her sides once again.

“I. Don’t. Want. This.”

I reiterate.

She throws her hands up in frustration, groaning loudly.

“Then what do you want, Neteyam? You never tell or do anything that shows it!”

I raise my eyebrow, quietly standing and watching her tantrum.

A part of me does finally feel coerced into pity. Why did she obsess over this? Over me?

“Women throw themselves at you! They practically drool over you and you don’t even blink! It’s like you don’t care.”

She continues.

“Do you think the whole playing “hard to get” and the “I don’t care” facade will last forever? Because I see right through it.”

She pokes my chest, making me step back once again, my hand behind me resting on the wooden pillar that held the tent up. My fingers anxiously and absently tracing the grooves in the smooth wood.

“There’s something or someone you want. “

“Kyuna, if you are so fixated on there being someone, do you honestly believe, in your heart, that it’s you?”

“Why cant it be?”

“I’m not saying it can’t be, I'm telling you it’s not!”

“Look at you! You won’t even touch me. You’re probably just shy?”

“I’m ‘shy’ because I wont have sex with you inside this tent? Sure. let's put it that way.”

I turn my back to her, starting to pile up the targets and untie the hanging cord around each one. Maybe if I act like she’s not there, she’ll disappear.

There's a pulse of silence before i feel a hand on my shoulder, sending a shrilling shudder down my spine.

“Let’s not dance around this Neteyam.”

She snakes to duck underneath me, placing herself to occupy the very small space between me and the wall, her nose nearly touching mine, I feel her breath for only a shred of a second before I flinch the other way.

“You can’t keep running from this.”

“Yes, I can. The question is, will you stop chasing me.”

"I won't stop chasing what I know belongs to me."

It’s unnerving. How her tone treads that unmistakable subtle possessiveness. That’s how Kyuna works. In her mind, you belong to her whether she realizes it or not. This is how she plays the game. Shifts the board, moves the pieces while you're not looking, and when you turn around, she tries to convince you that it was you who can’t remember what you did with your pieces.

I know where my pieces are. They’re my fucking pieces. Not hers.

“I want you”

She declares.

“No, you want something no one else has.”

I reason.

“No You don’t understand-”

“Something no one else has, but I can’t satisfy that for you-”

Our voices overlap.

“I love you.”

“You love the idea of me.”

Maybe I really do feel sorry for her.

“Can you really think of anyone else in this clan that would be a better wife for you other than me?? They wouldn’t last.”

Nevermind. I’m annoyed again.

“Is it fun? Thinking you’re better than everyone else?”

I query.

“No. Thinking isn’t fun. Knowing is my forte.”

Ah, so she doesn't enjoy thinking. What a shocker.

“Ever since the return of the sky people we’ve been weakened.”

I raise my brow, my face furrowing into something new.

“I don’t follow.”

“Don’t you see it? They only dwell in the past, we’re too afraid to fight the way we used to. We’ve all heard the stories. Our clan used to be ruthless. Feared by others. Now we’re just an afterthought. We’re afraid. But you, once you’re olo’eyktan you could change that, And i could help.”

She speaks, and the sound—that sound—is as if some unfortunate hand struck an untuned instrument, a mere echo of what it could have been. A cruel, discordant note that rends the stillness of the soul.

She is like a child playing a game whose rules she cannot understand, and whose consequences she cannot foresee. But the pain, the pain is real. It is deep, it is sharp, it is unspoken. And yet, she speaks again, and again, with the same ignorance.

Maybe I'm offended because it was all real to me.

Watching my mother wake up crying in the middle of the night plagued with memories of hometree was real.

Watching the love of my life lose her family because of the sky people’s destruction, that was real.

Standing here right now while they dangle our survival over our heads is real.

“I suggest you quit while you’re stepping ahead, Kyuna, You don’t know what you speak of.”

My former tone vanished, replaced by a gravity that demanded attention.

She looks embarrassed. And why wouldn’t she be?

She stammers, fidgeting with one of her braids.

“I was only- you don’t understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t. Do you think I’m impressed by this?

I don’t know what comes over me. Anger? Frustration? Annoyance.

I take a step closer, than another, until she’s pedaling backwards to remain ahead of me.

“Do you think this is attractive? Impressive? Do you think this is the kind of thing I yearn for at night? Stupidity? Ignorance? Do you think I get off on this? On you? Because I can promise you I don't.”

She gulps.

My father once told me that fear controls people.

I vowed to never fall victim to that again. Controlling others. I did it once and I lost the love of my life.

But maybe, control was potential. So was power. And if I have to shape my shadow into something scary and unapologetic to cast away such intrusive presences like hers? I’d justify it.

“Neteyam, I didn’t mean-“

She reaches for my arm, and I’m beyond tired of her touching me.

“Get out, Kyuna. I’m dismissing you.”

“But-“

“Out. Now.”

She stands in silence before turning to leave.

I feel my chest tighten its knot of air I didn’t even know was there until she’s out of my sight.

I don’t like pulling rank on people. But am I so terrible if I say that felt good??

I take a breath, steadying myself. Whatever just happened I could unpack later.

Right now, I allowed myself to be busy with the task at hand.

My sense of peace vanished once again when I saw a figure enter the tent out of the corner of my eye.

Can’t she take a hint?

“For the love of eywa!”

I groan.

“I’m not going to have sex with you! What do you want from me!? Just keep it in your fucking loincloth and-“

I turn around to see my father staring at me in horror.

“Dad?“

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺

Y/ns Pov:

you shouldn’t be nervous to talk to someone you’ve known my whole entire life and yet a more insidious, gnawing sensation sears at the back of your mind.

Maybe it’s guilt you feel. because the last time you spoke you brought up the past we both wish we could forget.

It was an unspoken rule between us. Not to bring up your mother.

It was never a spoken pact. Youboth knew all too well what happened with grief was left untouched. It hardens into something immutable.

you care about each other too much to put yourselves through that pain again.

You think the sky is sinking. The darker it became the more it seemed to cave downward. Maybe if you climbed a tree you could brush your fingertips against the stars and hear them whisper words of comfort.

You were a warrior. A “lieutenant” as Jake would call you. You had an invitingly strange familiarity to challenges.

Why did the feeling you had right now akin itself to the one you have before a raid?

Every step you take feels closer to the fire.

You grabbed the metal railing and hoisted yourself up to the wooden platform, ignoring the stairs made for human sized feet.

Ducking under the small door you felt the back of your neck brush the cool metal.

No matter how many times you’ve been in the shack, entering it always felt like a fever dream. The white and gray that washed the walls were such a huge contrast to the natural shades that hued pandora’s grounds. It had a way of making you feel empty. Like the crowded space could seep into a pit dwelling portal.

You treaded carefully, minding your anxiously swishing tail and praying that it wouldn’t be the cause of a beaker or something irreplaceable shattering.

Max and norm come into view. They sit at a table hunched over a flat board that sits between them. The board has little white and black boxes and pieces that all differ in size and shape. They scatter across the board, stilling in their place, waiting to be moved.

Norm’s eyes light up as he laughs manically, grabbing a black piece by the curved top and shifting it to one of the white pieces, knocking it over with a swift flick and taking the spot the white piece once inhabited.

“Have fun doing my dishes for a week.”

“You’ve been spending too much time in your avatar, you've finally lost it. You know I'm winning, right?

“Don’t even think for one second you haven’t been shoving pieces in your pocket every time I get up for coffee.”

Max scoffs.

“You’re a caffeine addict.”

“And you’re a cheater!”

“Those are fighting words, I’d watch myself.”

“Then empty your pockets! Come on! If you have nothing to hide.”

“What’s in a man’s lab coat is his own damn business!”

You stand awkwardly, exaggerating a cough to emphasize your presence.

Their heads snap towards you and every trace of frustration and theatrical betrayal vanish.

“Oh hey Kiddo.”

Norm waves, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. Max follows behind him, cracking his back with a groan before smiling at you with a warm familiarity.

You stand awkwardly greeting the two with respectful nods.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Oh no, never, You caught us at a good time.”

Max waves away the notion of apology from the air,

“To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Norm leans against the wall, grabbing a spare mask made for avatars and reaching out his hand to offer it to you.

You shake your hand, gently pushing the mask away.

“I’m not staying long.Is spider around?”

“He's outside.”

The three of you jump a bit at the sounds of footsteps above you, thick metallic thuds echo from the outside.

“Oh. well, now he’s up..side?” Norm gestures to the roof where spider’s evident movement was heard.

“Oh son of a- he’s gonna tear his stitches. That’s like the 5th time in the last 4 days.”

Max groaned, running to grab a med kit that sat on a table in the corner.

“I_..I can go let him know you guys don’t want him climbing?”

Your tail thwacks your shoulder blades. An exemplary allude of nervousness.

Norm nods, folding up the black and white squared board that laid flat on the table.

“That’d be great, he listens to you.”

You exited the shack without words, looking up at the slightly slanted roof and metal poles that curved embed with the shape. You jumped, hoisting yourself up over the awkward overhang before sitting atop it. You paused when two dangling pale legs came into view, you crawled over the next curve and were met with Spider’s back.

You froze for a moment.

Because it’s just now you realize that you thought the anticipation was what intimidated you. Just the walk from your ikran to the shack itself like like an unendruable trek towards something unmapped. Uncharted.

Your clan glorified you because they cannot see the contrast within recklessness and bravery.

To everyone around you, you were never afraid of the unknown. Dancing where others struggled to stand on uneven ground. Danger was an adventure. Not an intimidation. In a sky devoid of light you never feared the dark.

The wait was never what you should have feared. The uncertainty, in the silent torment of your thoughts was a comfort you’ve taken forgranted.

Because now you have to face him.

You can’t pretend to be made of stone forever. Eventually you’ll break like glass.

You reach your hand out, tapping his shoulders.

“Spider.”

His name comes out hoarse. The two syllables sound as if they had to pry thesmelves from the depths of your throat.

He turns around, and you can’t get yourself to meet his eyes. They settle in his lap, and you see his knife and a sharpening tool resting there.

“Hey.”

He whispered, turning around to face you. He places the knife and sharpening tool in a pouch resting on his hip.

There's an awkward silence as you both turn to face the edge of the mountain where only a few marui’s scattered and stopped where the natural stone barrier of highcamp enclosed you all inside.

Your breath hitches as your eyes follow two na’vi children running around playing a game, tackling each other and screeching.

And for a moment, for a fragment of a second, you swear you see you and spider.

“Norm and Max don’t want you up here.”

You say it unintentionally. But you needed something to fill the space between you. The silence demanded too much of your attention.

Spider glances over at you, swinging his feet absentmindedly.

“Yeah..I know. I just-”

He tugs at his locs lightly.

“I don’t know. I can’t think with my feet on the ground.”

Really? You never would have guessed.

“I think we should talk.”

“About what?”

You look at him, wondering if he’s forgotten your argument.

He squints at you before his gaze settles on the ground.

“Oh. That.”

“Did you forget.”

He shook his head.

“No. I tried though.”

Silence strikes again. Suffocating the expanse of what pressed between you two. It’s an oppressive hum of the unendurable truth that is heavy and refuses to remain unacknowledged.

“I’m sorry, I was an asshole. I know you were just worried and-”

He paused.

“No. Let’s start with this.

Y/n you’re the strongest person I know.

You’re intelligent and badass and a warrior. And I love that about you. But I remember a time where you’re life didn’t revolve around this war. And sometimes I feel like- part of why you put yourself into that position to protect me…I don’t want you going out and risking you’re life because I’m weak and small and-“

“You’re not weak.”

You cut him off. The edge of your voice makd his hands stop their fidgeting.

“You’re not weak. You’re just not like us.”

You expect hi to flinch or scowl when you say that but he does nothing of the sort. There’s a sadness behind his eyes shadowed by the long ignored truth.

You sigh, staring back up at the dark sky.

“We can paint as many layers and shades of blue as we can and it still can’t hide what’s underneath.”

“Yeah. A sky demon.”

He mumbles quietly.

“A product of mistakes that someone else made.”

You correct.

He's silent, he stares ahead.

“That’s one way of putting it.”

You nod, swaying your feet in a rhythm that matches his own.

“If we both were to climb a tree and throw ourselves off the highest branches, who would have a better chance of lesser injury. You, or me?”

Spider is quiet in his response. Almost embarrassed.

“You.”

“Which one of us can run faster?”

He rolls his eyes subtly, shoving you softly with his palm.

“You.”

“Who has more knowledge about the sky demons and their weaknesses.”

“Me?”

You both pause . You smile and nudge him back.

“That doesn’t make either of us stronger or weaker from the other. We’re different. But there is no difference that can divide what has grown between us, spider.”

He finally looks at you.

“I never should have brought up sa’nok. It was wrong.”

You whispered

For a moment you both slip to the center of your spiral. The center that was slowly unraveling to reveal a pain you both could wish never existed.

“But that is our common ground. We were raised under the same roof, in the same family.”

He leans his head on your shoulder, and the motion makes your still, your spine stiffening.

It’s not unwelcomed. Just unexpected.

“When they died I thought that they would separate us.”

Pain and fear is heard in his voice. And Jake says you and Lo’ak are a trouble making duo? You’ve clearly never met pain and fear. Two wretched companions that gnaw at the marrow of every shred of hope. It's the shadow that stalks even in the most mundane of moments.

“They vouched for me. Even when the rest of the clan said I didn't belong with a family.”

“I don't care what the rest of the clan thinks.”

You affirm.

Spider blinks at you. Seemingly shocked.

“But they’re your people.”

“So are you!”

You toss your head back and groan, taking your frustrations out on the sky.

“Why does everyone else get to tell me who I love? Who do I choose to protect and value as my own?”

Spider is quiet. He goes to answer, but nothing comes out.

“I don’t know.” he whispers.

“I don’t know either. Listen, no one gets to tell us that we aren’t family. Family isn’t always who you share blood with.

I may not have lived with you continuously throughout my life, but I would die for you at the end of the day. You’re my family because I remember playing with you in the river and chasing you down the stream. You’re my brother because I remember staying beside you even when other children said you being in my home meant that we shared your ‘human germs’.”

He stares at you. You can’t decipher what he’s thinking.

“Why should anyone else decide what you are to me?”

“Neytiri can.”

Spider interjects. Her name isn’t resentful in his voice, it’s rather longing for something distant. Something he’s never had.

You look down. Regretful.

“I can’t change the way she thinks about humans. She’s just afraid, and shes protective of her family-”

“I know that. But she’s also protective of you. And I don’t hate you for it. But-”

He stops. Staring down at his hands as if they are stained with something you can’t see.

“But what?”

You inquire gently, like trying to coax a shy child to speak.

“I’m gonna sound like such an asshole if I say it.”

You snort.

“It’s okay. I felt the same way earlier.”

He takes a breath.

“It’s not fair. They were parents to both of us. But you're the one taken in after they die. They would never do that to me. Because I'm not a na’vi.”

“Spider, I know it feels like that but they aren’t abandoning you for some sort of vengeance-

My- our mother and neytiri were like sisters. Jake and our parents were close. They promised that if anything happened to either of them they would step up for me.”

“No. They promised to step up to take any children she had under their wing.”

“Spider…”

“I’m not mad at you. It’s just frustrating. You get off at the easy lane while I'm going 90 miles to nothin’ off a cliff.”

And there it was again. That sting.

“Easy lane? Did you think this, any of this was easy for me? Having neytiri and mo’at braid my hair the way our mother would? Having jake accidentally call me “Zensira” for the first few months by accident? That day we had to leave the old village and come to high camp, the day I walked past the home we grew up in for a final time? Saying a last goodbye to the place where every moment of laughter, every memory, every fragment of joy I've known in my life feel so empty? So dark and cold?”

Spider shakes his head frantically.

“No! No of course not, we both lost something that day. I remember it too..It’s just..They’re there for you. You know?”

“I'm here for you.”

You reiterate. Almost desperate. At this moment you felt like a spider and you were onlookers into a mirror where he refused to acknowledge that you could both see your reflection upon the same surface.

“Iv’e been here. I’m staying here. So is Lo’ak, and kiri, tuk, norm, and max-”

You stop mid sentence as you remember what was scractching at the back of your brain.

“Oh by the way, max told me to tell you to stop tearing your stitches.”

You both are quiet. And then you laugh. You both laugh hard. And you nor him really know why.

As the laughter dies down he rests his head on your shoulder, whispering into the air.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

What were you both sorry for? Everything. Nothing. Somethings. Because this is where you both surrender. Even while you both remain tainted with the bitter aftertaste of unresolved tension, you withdrew, but not in peace—no, it was more like the calm that precedes a storm, an uneasy lull where the heart strains against its own quietude.

You both were stronger than what or whoever came between you. That was a fact.

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊

*emerges from my cave*

Hehe..hi…long time no see, huh?

Now before you throw the pitchforks at me, I can explain my delay of this chapter. For those of you who have read my bio, you already know I’m a film student. In the next few weeks me and a group of my classmates are going to start shooting a film entirely directed, produced, and written by us. I’m the art director and getting ready to travel (we’re filming in another location) has made me so busy…on another note I had to rewrite this chapter almost 5 times because it never came out right until now.

But, allow us to move on a happier note…

Happy Valentine’s Day and Black history month guys! I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter as much as I did.

Neteyam and Y/n have finally started they’re training sessions, so buckle up for more tension to come. And FINALLY! Spider and y/n are back on speaking terms. Phew. (This will not be the last argument they have in this story 😚)

Writing for Kyuna is so funny. Like, take a hint please shawty. He don’t want you. Ugh. It's desperation for me. And we left off on a cliffhanger with Jake and Neteyam? That will be an interesting conversation for next chapter..hm..ANYWAYSSS I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!

btw for my arcane watchers, do neteyam and y/n give you guys ekko and jinx vibes??

₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊

TAGLIST!

@fluorynn (THIS ONE’S FOR YOU FYNE SHYTE)

@mntx666

@isnt-itstrange @thebestrouge

@bay7let

@fairuzwhat

@jackiehollanderr

@6423btw

@satesatesate2009

@OstargirlO

@heavenlysstuff

@dayyzlol

@iheartamajiki

@fluorynn

@bakugouswaif

@eljaynosine-triphosphate

@mojo-jojo-1

@strongheartneteyam

@hungrynessforfics

@ravenxx888

@teyamsgirlx

@notsaelty

@eywaite

@love7buggy

I love you all! Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

#avatar the way of water #neteyam x reader #kiri sully #neytiri #avatar fanfiction #jake avatar #lo’ak x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam x you #neteyam #neteyam x na'vi!reader

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tessa-liam · 1 day ago

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A Marabelle Series...

One-shot, upcoming chapter snippet

Thank you @snoopdogcone for your ask...prompt: First Valentine's Day Date after a big break up!

Choices book: The Royal Romance, book2

Pairing: Drake Walker x Riley Brooks (F!OC)

Rating: Mature

Category: angst/fluff. One-shot, ask/prompt

A/N: not Beta’d, please excuse all errors.

A/N2: CFWC Valentine's Day 2025, prompt: Ouch! - First Valentine's Day after a big break up.

Premise: It's Valentine's Day, Drake is remembering the last fight he had with his now ex-girlfriend, Melanie. Sitting alone in the beer garden, his outlook on life instantly improves when Riley Brooks enters and bumps into him.

As the familiar strains of a Cordonian folk song hummed from the far corner of the beer garden, Drake downed the remnants of his beer and scowled to himself.

He should have known it wouldn't work out with Melanie. Hell, it was Valentine's Day, for Chrissake. A holiday invented to screw with bachelors everywhere. All of the cute little couples strolling by outside with their perfect life. Ugh. If I have to listen to someone ask for an 'appletini', I might just drown myself in that damn thing.

On the one day when his lack of romanticism would be glaringly evident to the rest of the bar crowd, the last thing Drake wanted to do was to be around people. As the dour thought crossed his mind, it seemed that the very world conspired against him.

Just then, another patron bumped against Drake's arm. As the person went to apologize, she turned to him and stopped.

"Drake?" the feminine voice said with surprise. "It's me... Riley."

As he shifted in his chair, Drake recognized the woman's piercing hazel eyes and charming smile. It was hard to forget someone like her, who was bursting with charisma and personality. He knew instantly who she was, but he played ignorant.

"Well, I needed to get out of my apartment..."

"Oh, hey, Riley. What brings you here today?

"And the brew at the bar is free today." Drake smirked.

"Yes, that, and not knowing anyone here besides Melanie."

"Ah, so it is Valentine's Day that's got you so worked up," he grinned, shifting a little on the small stool.

"If I was alone," he continued, "there'd be no difference. I usually make a point to keep myself too busy to even realize it's today, so as not to feel so fucking inadequate and depressed."

"Really, you've found this day a blight upon your lonely existence? Because that's totally not how everyone else on the street looked as they sauntered down the road holding hands and giggling," Riley chided him, doing a spot-on imitation of the most saccharine romantic she could think of.

"This, I would not deny. Clearly, others have the magical ability to connect and establish real relationships with actual human beings. This does not work for the emotionally stunted, who prefer a good bottle of whisky anyway. Their company is sufficient; it does not care who is paying for dinner."

Riley rolled her eyes as she took a sip of her appletini, smiling ruefully at him as she chewed on an ice cube. It felt nice to make conversation with him. They were usually working when she saw him and not really talking about anything significant. She would occasionally shoot him a glance or two, but it wasn't really an equal exchange.

"Maybe I can remedy the issue of no company on the date," she grinned, enjoying their light banter. "But where is the famous Melanie today?"

"Melanie," he started, his mouth turning into a sneer when he mentioned her name.

"Oh shit, did she leave you for the romantic stroll under the street lamp?" She patted him on the back empathically.

"Well, not exactly..." he trailed off, unsure of the word choice for describing his previous romantic involvement.

"Well, I take that as good news for you. What happened, Drake?" She brought her eyes up to meet his, cocking her head to the side. She sincerely wondered why anyone wouldn't be attracted to a tall, dark haired, chocolate eyed handsome gentleman. It must be some serious defects and faults for Melanie to say goodbye.

"When did it end? Or should I say, how long had you been expecting for this to happen?"

Drake had the sinking feeling that he'd managed to summon the relationship proverbial demons into the conversation, but for better or worse, he was starting to really like the company of this clever-tongued woman next to him.

"It wasn't expected. Not by a long shot. It ended about a week or two ago."

She frowned, studying his face carefully for the nuance of regret she detected. When he couldn't meet her gaze, she figured out there wasn't any lingering feelings between Melanie and him. The frown turned back into a wicked little grin.

"Damn," he breathed, looking away from her stare. It was unnerving, being so vulnerable.

"Let me guess," she started, gazing at him with her pale, inquisitive eyes. "Things have gotten bad because of all the witty and intelligent discussions. You've driven each other so crazy that you can't stand being with the other anymore. Sound familiar?"

Drake laughed to himself and swiveled his bar stool to face her, resting his back against the bar. He wasn't going to be the only vulnerable one anymore, not if Riley kept probing like that.

"Actually, yes, it was those witty and intelligent conversations that killed the romance."

"I'll drink to that."

"Seriously?!" Riley looked away, glancing at the array of glasses behind the bar. "What kind of geek dates someone and talks for fun, then ruins everything?"

✨️💘✨️

#tessa liam writes #the royal romance #marabelle #drake walker #riley brooks #cfwc valentine's day 2025 #choices fic writers creations #snoopdogcone

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tothesolarium · 1 year ago

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I am completely captivated by your descriptions of these characters i am eagerly awaiting more snippets (almost like a dog waiting for table scraps you could say)

I wish I had some better treats to give you

Both of them are like this, thinking this is pure violence and not affection involved

Also the catharsis of being a well trained weapon, treated only for your capability to destroy and realizing you can redirect that skill. Mainly, to protect those you love. Resulting in great bodily injury,,, from the other hound,,,,

But also to destroy those who tried to train you so cruelly !!

Also some old mech concept sketches - one of which has been more developed but we still trying and full of to many ideas

I luv u coyote

#but MORE IMPORTANRLY I LOVE YOU AND WAS HOLDING THIS ASK TO MY CHEST LIKE IT WAS A MIDDLE SCHOOL LOVE NOTE #they’ll figure it out!! I promise !!!#takes a damn ass while tho #I have the urge to draw them wrestling even tho they are mainly fighting in mechs #and then it might be a spoiler #tho #I really think someone who’s like- it starts in the very first chapter #I’m terrible at being subtle #and my current readers are like No Stop Spoiling you’re pulling me along well!!#while I just want to reveal all my cards #it’s difficult having a brain full of gay space story #that one reader is title Feels Like Home for irony and the developing of a home - but other than that it has no title #cuz I suck at names #Kolasis took Months to name and was Rival for most of this #Warraun still doesn’t have a last name #and two of the crew have names i pronounce not like they’re spelled #/(._.)\ gifted

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hylianane · 3 months ago

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A big part of the Haikyuu rewatch is watching the characters interact and worrying that I fandomized their relationships too much in my head, particularly with the Karasuno first years because Hinata and Kags keep Yamaguchi and Tsukishima at arm’s length for so long. But then I remember. Oh wait the squad is literally Hinata’s phone background by the end of the story. You don’t put a picture of just some dudes in your after school club as your phone background.

#ane discovers character development takes time who wouldve thought #personally I think wthe change happens when Yachi and Tsuki start tutoring them #It’s around the time that there’s a shift in their bickering so that it’s more. ‘familial’ isnt the term I’m looking for but like #the kind of razzing you can only do with someone you know #Tsukishima for example starts bringing up specific things they studied together to dunk on Kageyama not remembering any of it #And another subtle thing I noticed- cause again I started going like ? did I fandomize my entire perception of Tadashi too much?#cause for the first season he doesn’t interact with ANYONE but Tsuki. Like practically not at all except to brag about Tsuki to others #But I have a sneaking suspicion that this starts to change around the time that he starts getting on the court more often as a pinch server #Probably because it gives him more courage #Cause I remember him having a lot to say in the Shiratorizawa match #and I remember him getting along with Yachi! So like I’m keeping an eye out for those changes #haikyuu!!#Also my favorite part about rewatching Haikyuu is how the reveal of Kag’s backstory really does affect. Your entire perception of him #Like I know its probably cause he’s my fav but I always feel so frustrated when people assume the worst of him and so sad that even Oikawa-#who knew him back when he was a very happy and shy kid- doesn’t even question why his personality had such a sudden shift #but then I realize that the only reason I’m so aware of these changed is because Kageyama has ‘opened up to me’ as an audience member befor #Furudate waited hundreds off chapters to tell us that he’s been grieving a loved onesince a little before the very first scene of the manga #So that it would feel like we earned it #Idk how to explain it like when you meet someone who’s hurting it takes a lot of effort and patience for them to tell you why #in the same way bc we stuck by the story for so long and watching Kageyama learn to be more open #we got the privilege of learning why he was closed off in the same place #but Kageyama didnt give anyone at his old school the chance to stick around- not Kindaichi or Kunimi or anyone #So it makes total sense #kageyama tobio #hinata shouyou #yamaguchi tadashi #tsukishima kei #yachi hitoka #karasuno first years #my post

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cassianandfenrysaremyboyos · 1 year ago

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I'm sorry but this just pisses me off (Not Hunt obviously, but Bryce)

Bryce rant incoming which you can just ignore and I'll probably delete later

But Bryce just puts all the blame on the Asteri. And yes ultimately they are to blame in the larger sense of things. But Bryce plays a direct role in leading them down the path that results in Hunt, Ruhn and Baxian being caught. It was her need to find out Danika's secrets with no thought to the consequences, her idea to go to the Eternal City. And she takes NO personal responsibility for it at all!

Hunt is blaming himself for everything that's happened. Even when it's not his fault at all. When we're in his pov he's constantly drowning in guilt, thinking about how he should of done more, he should of tried harder, he should of been better, how it's all his fault this happened and that his friends suffered.

And then Bryce does none of that. When we're in her pov she doesn't really show any major guilt. I can't think of any times when she blames herself like Hunt does. And I'm not saying she should be wracked with guilt. But a normal person, a good person, will usually feel bad and will feel guilty and blame themselves to some degree when something bad happens and people they care about are hurt, regardless of how big or small they're involvement is, or even if they're not at fault at all, case in point Hunt being wracked with guilt even when it's not his fault.

And to make it worse she acknowledges that Hunt warned them, warned her. But that she disregarded it and would of done it no matter what.

And then she has the audicity to say she doesn't regret it. And she thought they were on the same page. ON THE SAME PAGE!!?? Hunt made it clear in hosab that he didn't want to go down this road again, that he didn't want to get involved. YOU just didn't listen Bryce. And yeah Hunt's an adult, he can make his own decisions and he could of said no and not gone. But of course, OF COURSE!! he wasn't going to let Bryce go down that road alone, because he loves her, and doesn't want anything to happen to her, and wants to protect, so of course he would never desert her. But that doesn't mean he wanted to do it!

For Bryce to be that unaware of Hunt's feelings, when he explicitly stated them. For her to be that disconnected from her mate's feelings that she's surprised that he wasn't really on board is kinda unfathomable to me. Just that complete lack of awareness really does make her look quite selfish/self centered.

Anyway sorry, this post is a mess but I just had to vent

And then when Hunt mentions the consequences he and his friends faced, Bryce makes it about her pain. She's hurt that Hunt mentioned that they suffered. And the worst part is, Hunt then regret's it, he regrets saying something that hurts Bryce, because he cares about her and feelings. And she does not consider his feelings to the same degree

It just pisses me off

#honestly with bryce's lack of feelings of guilt her lack of consideration of other people's feelings and her lack of taking responsibility #for her actions i think sarah has unintentionally written her as kinda a bit of a sociopath #anyway like i said in a previous post *sigh* i miss hoeab bryce my beloved #hoeab bryce had gone through so much and had a lot of growth through the first book and had so much potential for more #but then it just stopped. went backwards even. in fact i think hofas bryce has gotten worse #she's had no development for 2 books now and the further i get into hofas more and more apparent it's become how flawed #and one dimensional her character is #her being in prythian and the acotar characters carried her early chapters but now that she's back in midgard her lack of growth and #maturity is starting to grate on me. literally every other pov character has had more development then her #in all the other character pov's they are constantly self reflection they feel guilt they blame themselves they consider the feelings #of those around them. they consider how their actions have affected those around them. they take responsibility for their actions #bryce's pov does not do that to the same degree. if at all #there's minimal critical thought. no self reflection. a lack of taking any responsibility for her actions and the consequences #she's really is a very flat character. what you see is what you get #and her 'sassyness' (that was fine at first when there actually was more to her character) which is supposed to come across as #witty funny badass who takes no shit ect. more and more is just comes across as annoying and immature #and often inflammatory in situations that require maturity sensitivity and tact #her disrespect for the ocean queen who is helping you and is super powerful and not someone you want to make #an enemy of was just unnecessary and not smart tactically #and this is super nitpicky but I'm getting so sick of bryce's clothes. please get her out of those ridiculous leggins and pink sneakers #they were fine when she was going to the nail salon and the gym but how am i supposed to take her seriously on a world saving #mission in those clothes. how am i supposed to take her seriously as a queen (ugh) conversing with the ocean queen #in those clothes #and I'm loath to say it because i love hoeab quinlar with my whole heart but hofas bryce doesn't deserve hunt #the devotion and consideration hunt has for bryce and her feelings is not returned to the same degree to him #anyway i was hoping to get my hoeab bryce back but it hasn't happened but hopefully the second half of the book #can turn things around for her #pleaseee

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tteokdoroki · 4 months ago

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✎ᝰ. OCT 22ND ★ SOMNOPHILIA - seishiro nagi .ᐟ

[CHAPTER TWENTY TWO SLEEPING BEAUTY ] once upon a time, a brave knight, destined to marry someone she’d never met, says fuck it and plans to reap the rewards of saving the prince from eternal slumber. without realising that he’s already awake… ( 8.8K ).

✧ chapter contents - minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, characters in their 20s, sleeping beauty!au, somnophilia, hold the moan, overstimulation, cockwarming, dacryphilia, outer-course, handjobs, blowjobs, pussyjobs, free use, dub con, cumplay, creampies, not beta read, knight + fem!reader, aurora!seishiro nagi.

✧ fairy godmother's note - this is so late i'm so sorry, i think i might start posting kinktober towards the end of the week and into november, enjoy me loves. miss u loads! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ☆

you hardly remember the day that prince nagi was born — despite most definitely being there for the ceremony that commemorated it. at the time, you were hardly out of your own leading strings, still babbling dumbly and clinging to your mother’s garments whenever someone poked their nose in your face. obviously far too young to remember the curse placed on him by that wicked witch maleficent.

prince seishiro nagi was beloved by all and affection for him was widespread throughout the kingdom. he was born deep into the night, at a time where the sky had been painted with deep blue and midnight hues, with hair as silky and pale as the silver moon and eyes like the glittering starry sky. so they said. at least that’s what your been told. while present at the time, you would hardly know — you were too young to remember how he looked nor the very moment you were promised to him as a baby yourself.

from the moment you were born, your fate was signed away before your very first breath and once you arrived and took two steps you were instantly reared to become prince seishiro’s future wife. to help join two kingdoms in harmonious union. from the moment you could talk, you’d spent your entire life training to become the wife of a man you hardly knew. there were lessons in perfect posture, dainty dancing and simple sewing. not to mention how to serve a king and please a husband — who apparently had unnatural beauty, the softest voice and the kindest of hearts. outside of nagi, you hadn’t a single hobby or interest that didn’t concern him, solely born and bred for his best interest. how were you supposed to know if any of those spoken traits were really true and not just word of mouth when nobody had any idea where the prince actually was.

rumour had it, that the silver haired royal had been whisked away to the woods to be raised by the very fairies that blessed him — with hopes of avoiding maleficent’s malevolent curse in which seishiro was destined to prick his finger on a poisoned spinning wheel by age twenty three. in an attempt to undo the wicked spell, the fairies had combined their magic and made it so that only a true love's kiss would be able to wake up their beloved prince. which soon became your duty, by the time you came of age too.

since then, and for twenty two years after, there was not a peep from the prince — to his people and his kingdom, he’d practically vanished overnight, becoming one with the moon and stars they prayed to each night. holding out hope for his return to the throne.

in turn, you had no idea when your duty would come to fruition. maleficent's thunderous mountain, shrouded in a thick layer of green, jealous smog that was sure to suck the life from any innocent soul still raged on — meaning her curse hadn’t come true. she still hadn’t found the prince. no one had.

no one except for you.

unknowingly, you’d met nagi humming amongst pointed shrubbery and wild flowers deep in the forest — absentmindedly complaining about tne berries he was forced to forage for his uncles back home. for you, it was instant, as though an invisible force had drawn you two him like the the two poles of a magnet. prince seishiro was a sight to behold, even before you knew who he was, the timbre trill of his voice filled you with a wave of unfamiliar butterflies that battled their way into your throat — trapping your voice. his eyes were an enchanting pool of riches, frightened of your presence at first, but filled with stripes of silver you were sure had to be stolen from the moon.

for you, it was love at first sight. a powerful urge to be near him building up in your lungs like fluid in a sick person. you were sure he felt the same — the emotion obvious in the way he tentatively touched you as you talked about nothing and everything at all. the way he swooped down to your height to listen to tales of land and fortune he could only have dreamed of.

in those hours that you spent alone together; pressed into one another’s side’s amongst intertwined tree branches like two lovers' limbs after a night of improper passion — you’d felt the most seen you had in all your life. for the first time in forever, someone saw you as more than just a bargaining chip or a trophy to be paraded around royal courts in honour of union. someone saw you as a whole, read your story from start to finish and still wanted to know more. you weren’t just a knight made to save a prince. to nagi, you were so much more.

and to you, nagi was a breath of fresh air — someone who craved a more exciting life rather than being banished to a life of greenery and foliage. despite his charming air of laziness and naivety, he expressed to you a burning sense of eager deep within. it was innocent, inquisitive but nagi’s thoughts called out to you like the bird song of two mates. the worlds you came from were different, clearly, but you just made sense to one another.

but back then, in those quiet moment with your head on his shoulder and nothing but the sound of oak leaves swaying in the gentle summer breeze — you’d had no idea that the silver haired stranger was just prince seishiro living under a different name. you thought him a commoner and he thought you a random huntress on a horse. no one had any idea that he was the crown prince, that he’d been snuck back into the castle on the day of his twenty third birthday to regain his title and his crown… only to be lulled by the cruel call of a sinister stranger shortly — pricking his finger just like maleficent had planned.

you were meant to marry. you were supposed to go back for seishiro and run away together, live apart from the expectations bestowed upon you as children. unfortunately, you wouldn’t find out until returned to the spot where you’d first met him, and were met with the face of the villain herself. instead of your lover. that’s when you realised the gravity of it all. who seishiro was. who you were meant to be.

deep down, you knew this was a love too sacred to pass by, and with the white haired prince counting on you — you would do everything in your power to save him. save the prince and the kingdom from sleeping soundly for the next one hundred years.

with the help of the fairies who raised nagi, you were able to take down the terrible maleficent — grateful that your parents had at least made you handy with a sword. through the flames of the beast above you, you wielded your weapon with a strength and bravery that would go down into the history books of lands far and wide. killing maleficent in the form of the dragon had been no easy feat but you fought, with screaming muscles and a bloody face — fulfilling the duty you had been born to do. trained to do. for nagi and for your kingdom.

the difference was, this time, you were doing all of this for love. not just for honour.

after winning the flaming battle, you staggered your way through the kingdom despite your burns and free bleeding wounds, making your way up to the tower where your silver-moon haired lover slept. part of you felt envious of the slumbering kingdom, the eternal rest they had slipped under while your body burned and ached with every step that you took… but as soon as you laid eyes on your handsome prince — sleeping like a fallen angel crowned by scattered lights. the glinting particles of dust forming a shining halo over his sleep the steel hair.

the beat of your heart quickens as you approach the bed tucked deep within his quarters — rivalling the speed of the finest royal race horse and the world completely falls away until the all that remains are you and seishiro. your prince. your love. even while he sleeps, he’s unfairly handsome, grey lashes dusted with starlight just barely brushing the apples of his milky-toned cheeks, his hair curls against his forehead and his lips, rose-tinted, part with each gentle exhale his body takes to keep him alive. without even thinking, your finger trails the slopes and contours of nagi’s delicate features, brushing over his Cupid’s bow that seems damp with the condensation of his warm breaths. the sensation stokes a fire within you while your mind wanders to less than pleasant thoughts.

how would his lips feel if you were to kiss him? how would they taste? how would seishiro kiss you back? the questions swirl around in the calcium cage of your skull like a storm untapped, fuelled by the remnants of adrenaline that simmers in your veins from the fight. it would be wrong, to do what you’re thinking of doing — to press your lips to the seam of his and run your tongue every inch in his hot mouth, behind his teeth and over his own pink muscle. maybe even to cup his throat and feel every breath he takes. it would be so wrong… and yet, your moral compass and previous duties seem to be out of working order, thus, losing the war the flickering desirous flame within you. one that rivals the breath of the dragon slaid outside.

no one would really care if you were to have the way with the crown prince. after all, you would need to be rewarded for your self sacrifice and service to the kingdom that could have very well been burned to the ground if it hadn’t been for your bravery. you deserved this, you deserved him and the chance to appease your growing appetite for the sleeping beauty before you. right now, there were no barriers… no servants and squires and maids or men to tell you what was proper of a knight or of a promised woman, and there certainly weren’t any barriers to the body of the silver haired prince. without any blankets, there wasn’t much to stop you from trailing a hand over seishiro’s clothed stomach and over the hills of his princely dress pants.

your fingertips grazed the taut muscles of his thick thighs as you teased yourself. teased the slumbering royalty. daring tug at the belt loops and thick leather her bound his trousers to his unfairly slender waist. with your lip caught between the sharp edge of your teeth, you unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants inch by inch, a tidal wave of goosebumps erupting over the surface of your body like freshly plucked chicken skin as you reveal more and more of his milky, toned flesh. he’s smooth all over, blueish veins apparent as they spiral underneath his skin, but nagi is just as soft as you remember, as warm brushing up against you as he was the day you first met in the woods.

saliva spreads across your tongue like a sheet of rain during a storm or a flash flood when his undergarments come down with the hem of his trousers, revealing a snow white path of pubic hair that curls prettily against his pelvis. there’s a craving for more that sloshes into the dips and deficits of your brain, like a dark haze that shrouds your brain in nothing but lust — so you act on the feeling, pulling more and more fabric away from seishiro’s most intimate parts until his cock, half hard and already leaking, is able to spring free.

the sleeping beauty’s breath hitches and catches on the edges of his throat as his hard-on first hits the cool air shrouding his chambers. whatever preconceived notion you’d had of the prince’s body beforehand is quickly tossed away when you finally set your sights on his girth — he is as long as he is thick, chubby against the softness of his tummy with a pink tip that already oozes a thick stream of cream caused by the ghost of your touch over him. a warmth spreads through your entire body, an urge to taste him washing over you in a poor attempt to cool your need down. if you taste him, would that be part of your reward? would it matter to anyone if you put your mouth on the prince while he innocently slept… especially after you’d saved everyone?

you still cannot find it within yourself to care.

perhaps the wounds maleficent inflicted upon you have left traces of her bad energy, for you continue to disregard your own morals and good intentions by crawling onto nagi’s bed ( careful with your movements while he shifts in his slumber ) and you keep your touch tender when taking him into your hold, the supple pads of your fingers wrapping around the length of the prince’s shaft while you smooth the pad of your thumb into the slit on his cockhead. rubbing the precum into it sweetly. now up close and personal with his most intimate parts, you’re able to catch the scent of nagi… which only worsens your hunger for him. he smells so good, the musky scent of his arousal almost sending your eyes into the back of your skull — acting like fumes of a pretty wildflower in the forest you once met.

it hypnotises you, takes over your every thought and action in the heat of the moment. every sensation you once felt is now heightened by your own arousal, the feeling of your tongue behind your teeth and the silken sheets against your knees and the blistering temperature of seishirou’s girth in your palm. adjusting your grip on him to something more firm, soft little hands dwarfed by the sheer size and thickness of him, and accidentally pull a tiny moan from your sleeping lover. any trepidation mingling with the air in your lungs is quickly eradicated once you finally give in, flicking your tongue over the cream gathering at nagi’s mushroomed cockhead that burns a painful shade of deep red.

opening your mouth, you take seishiro down your throat as though it’s the easiest thing in the world, your tongue flexing against the bluish purple forked veins that spiral down his heavy shaft. all you want to do is make him harder, feel the blood rush from his slumbering brain to his balls so you can take him properly, elsewhere, later on. what doesn’t fit past the seams of your chapped lips, you continue to palm, setting a steady pace to the rhythm of your hands jerking the silver-haired prince off. its slick and easy, aided by the thick globs of precum that spill over your knuckles and sink into the lines in your palms — seishiro may be asleep, but his body reacts, hips bucking into your closed fist while he squeaks and sighs lazily.

his head remains tacked to the pillow tucked behind it, starlight locks splayed out across the cooling silk fabric — perfectly tousled despite being slightly out of place as he writhes under the sinful prison of your hot, wet mouth. even you have to moan as you sink down on him, his heavy and pulsating balls meeting your chin while your nose nudges the prickliness of his happy trail. if he were awake, you wonder if nagi would be the type to coax you through giving him head — soft whimpers glossed in his lips while those moonshine grey eyes hold your gaze. or would he push your head down on him and fuck your mouth lazily as though it were another hole to fill with his cum.

part of you wants to rouse him right now, with the kiss of true love the fairies said would work on him, but only to hear how much louder he’d cry and moan for you. you want to hear how the Prince would praise you for taking him so well, slurping the early seed from his tip and hollowing your perfect pudgy cheeks as you gargle him down your eager throat. your imagination runs ahead of your actions as you bob your head faster and faster without regard for your lover sleeping soundly above you lewd slurping sounds echo throughout the room as you picture him looking down at you with flushed cheeks and lidded moonlit eyes — coaxing you to take more of him.

the heat between your thighs returns, an unbearable searing ache pulsating through your clit as blood carrying lust and other happy hormones shoot straight to it. in one swift motion, you shove a single hand past the waistband of your own pants and undergarments to toy with the sensitive bud, smearing whatever remained of his precum and pre-release against your awaiting cunt. your eyes flutter shut at the taste and heaviness of nagi on your tongue, his viscous arousal flowing down your throat in saltine waves. the flavour was addictive and you found yourself bobbing your head faster, and faster — matching it to the pace at which you stroked your own sticky slit.

lavishly, you run your tongue back and forth over the opening of seishiro’s bulbous cockhead, humming happily around his thick shaft when he involuntarily bucks into the hellish fire of your mouth — it makes your heart swell to know that his body is reacting to you and you alone, how it could very well be this way for the rest of your lives. while you hump your own fingers, their tips pruning with how wet you are as you circle your clit, the sleepy beauty’s balls batter your chin as his taut hips thrust upwards instinctively to chase your dripping tongue and mouth.

drool pours from the corners of it, just as you leak against the seat of your panties — your juices hot and viscous while you finger fuck yourself and get off to the sensation of blowing the sleepy prince while he rests. everything is so sloppy, so messy and wet and you can’t help but to spit down on nagi as his dick swells against your tongue, the frothy mixture clinging to the prominent blood flushed veins that sprinkle from the tip down to his base.

your release sneaks up on you like a silent figure in the night; hiding from the moonlight and a dirty moan slips from between your lips as you let go of your lover with a lewd pop, your jaw aches deliciously and your tongue is sore from running circles over his tip — as is your wrist from being down your pants to bully shapes into your clit but you don’t mind the pain, it’s all worth it to make yourself feel good. to make nagi feel good so you can use him later on, turning him from a prince into a sex doll. dopamine continues to spark across your brain as you switch from sucking to jerking nagi off, keeping the rhythm of your slick palm wrapped around him in tune with the one that rolls your clit between your fingertips and pinches your swollen folds.

you don’t last much longer, not when you’re able to watch the moonlit prince fall apart above you even when the depths of sleep cling to the fine lines of his soul. the last remaining thread of your sanity snaps before you’re cumming against your own digits, gushing through the gusset of your panties and straight through the layer or your pants — even while you shiver and shake from the force of your own orgasm, you manage to find a the mobility to tap nagi’s cockhead lewdly against your pink tongue, grinning with an open mouth as his own orgasm rips through his unconscious form.

warm and viscous seed paints a pretty picture against your strawberry tastebuds as it spurts copiously from his ravaged, fully erect cock. even hitting the back of your throat.

but it’s not enough, it’s still not enough. a fire of desire still burns bright inside of you and nagi is still as hard as a rock in your hand. so you don’t see a point in stopping, not when you still want him and he clearly still wants you.

in a whirlwind of fabric, you quickly abandon the lower half of your clothes — even though your legs are violently shaking and there’s a fizz in your brain that makes your vision go blurry from your orgasm, you find the strength to clamber into the prince’s lap and straddle him. a pulse of excitement runs through you as your bare ass meet his half dressed thighs and you set your palms flat against his chest to steady yourself above him. you’re barely able to contain the wavering moan that rumbles in the back of your throat as seishiro’s erection jumps against your sluice sex, as if coaxing you to lower yourself down onto him.

without an air of guilt, you do just that; indulging your sleeping lover’s underlying plea as you slip a hand between your temperate bodies to position his creamy cock at your weeping entrance — you run it back and forth over your slit a few times whilst holding back a quivering hiss, letting him dip in and out of your unused hole. you can’t help but squeak adorably when you start to rock your hips down, sucking him in and stretching over the thick circumference of his tip. you even manage to clench down on seishiro, trapping him inside with each inch you manage to take.

your head hangs low and you steady yourself against nagi again; nails forming pink crescent moons against his pearlescent skin because you’re not sure how much of this burn you can take. he’s so big, yet his cock is so helpless against your sticky walls — it’ll take a lot of work just to reach the hilt. “oh, fuck,” you whimper to yourself quietly, not wanting to be caught taking advantage of the kingdom’s slumbering royalty. you try to stablwlisw your breathing, hold onto your sanity by only fucking yourself over his tip because right now… it’s all you can manage. getting used delicious stretch to your pussy and the resistance of your hole as nagi slips into your tightness.

in order to ground yourself, you press yourself against the moonlit prince until you’re both chest to chest — allowing your body to relax against is as you slide further down his cock. and, with this change in position, you easily dot feather light kisses from the pale skin, unmarked skin of seishiro’s neck up to his jawline — licking the light layer of perspiration that added diamonds to his skin. his pulse is slow, languid under your lips, just as the rise and fall of his chest is. nagi still sound asleep as you bathed his cock in all of your syrupy wetness. eventually, you reach his lips and hardly hesitate in kissing them, lapping over the seam of them with your tongue as if you’re asking for entrance when you don’t really need to.

not when his body is so willing to give into you, even while seishiro rests.

you swear you feel his lips twitch apart against your own, parting specifically for you to pour your withering moans into him and breathe life into his unconscious soul — your tongue licks at his, relishing in the flavour and slight sweetness to his mouth, letting it distract you from the twinge between your thighs as you finally seat yourself on his girth fully; breeders balls nestled comfortably against the curve of your ass. a feeling of content washes over you, feeling the chubbiness of his girth press hotly against your ribbed walls that catch on his prominent veins there.

panting lightly, a ripple of desire is the next sensation that you feel, experimentally clenching around the prince below you — bottoming out as your cunt drools down on him. somehow, you find the strength in your thighs to lift your hips and thrust back down, a wet slap bouncing off of all four walls in response. it’s insane how tight, warm and wet you are — how thick, heavy and nagi is, constantly pressed up against your g-spot before you’ve really even moved. you splutter and hiccup as you begin the slow bounce of your hips and allow yourself the grace to accommodate for your sleeping lover’s size, his bright red and possibly overstimulated cockhead nudging feverishly against the pleasure spots that decorate your temperate silken walls.

“…gods,” comes your shaky voice, trapped behind the prison of your teeth in a weak attempt to hold in your moans. “s-seishiro, f-feel so good…” though you speak to no one in particular, using the sound of your own wailing voice to get yourself, you can feel the white-haired royal underneath you buck upwards as though he wants to fuck you back — driven by tired strings of lust and desire as though he’s a puppet on a set of strings for your own pleasure. collapsing forward, you nestle your head underneath his chin so that the only part of your body moving is your hips working up and down on nagi’s pulsating cock at break-neck speeds. in this position, your murky breaths of exertion coast over his pearlescent skin and your eyes grow misty at the perfect angle. your stream of thrusts are constant like a rushing river, allowing his bulbous leaky tip to barrage into your sex and pull squelching, lewd noises from your poor pussy.

you’re already so sensitive, it’d be a miracle if you last much longer riding your lover like this and to your heart’s content. slumped over him, chewing on your chapped lips to hide the debauched noises that slosh over your tongue and are churned up in your mouth with the drool there. it’s pathetic, really, but your mind is too hazy and high on the drug of ecstasy to care. to pacify yourself and the growing fire that burns the butterflies in your tummy, you switch from bouncing on his fat girth to grinding against it, dancing with your partner in a sensual sticky grind where only you are able to lead. every stroke of his cock within your sluice, pulsating walls makes it harder for you to keep quiet or keep still — the bed creaking beneath the weight of your movement becomes a loud wail and harmonises perfectly with the tune or skin slapping on skin and your pathetic bleats of bliss.

sweat from the exertion of pounding your mound down on the curve of his cock begins to bead at your hairline, pearling in opaque orbs that form your own halo. one that belongs to a fallen angel. it drips down the side of your face onto the prince below you, another way that you mark him, just as your juices do — droplets of it trailing down his shaft, balls and even his ass. if someone were to walk in now, they’d set their sights on an obscene display of sin, their perfect prince defiled by his knight to be, but you don’t care, your mind and exhausted limbs buzzing with wanton. you’ll use him until cum, claim your prize and work your selfish pussy over him until you know every constellation by heart because of how many times you’ve used seishiro to make yourself see stars.

every sensation overwhelms you, the creamy and tackiness to his cock between your slicked up thighs and the pressure of his purpling cockhead as it digs disgustingly against your g-spot in the most perfect of ways because you clench down on him every now and again. static rings loud in your ears that burn with both shame and lechery for taking advantage of your sleeping lover, the notes from the tune your fat pussy pap-pap-papping as it connects with stitchers of nagi’s bare flesh has a tingling sensation spreading under your skin too. even when he bucks instinctively into you, your entire body jolts in response because there’s no greater relief than knowing that you are yearned for… even within the clutches of unconsciousness.

when nagi whimpers in his sleep, you have to bite his shoulder — keeping your wailing mouth occupied even if you’ll leave teeth marks against him in place. someone could hear the way you beg him to fuck you, muffling yourself as you whisper dirty fantasies to yourself and split your swollen nether lips open on his drippy dick. you’re not sure if that is a good or bad thing to want, to be heard. “f-fuck me sei… p-please my prince,” everything feels so depraved and so wrong, while you whine sweetly against saltine skin. however, you don’t see yourself stopping — not until you can no longer feel your legs from riding him and your cunt aches from cumming so hard. “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

the back and forth of your sluice sex over nagi’s lap tampers with your system, sending orgasmic shockwaves down your spine and happy hormones into your bloodstream. you alternate, once more peeling your soaked thighs away from his and lift your fluttering entrance higher and higher up his shaft until there’s barely an inch of the white haired royal left inside of you. the emptiness makes you miss him, a choked sob weaving its way like a vine through the gaps in your ribs as it claws its way out of your throat. it’s a shuddering noise that you suppress by locking lips with seishiro again, wet on the seam of them as you lift your head to kiss him.

“i wanna cum, nagi!”

the words are just about to melt in his mouth but…

…but euphoria is quick to slip into your veins like a welcomed chill on a hot day when nagi suddenly rouses from his slumber — following a natural compulsion to snap his hips upwards with a powerful force and filling you in one fluid motion. he’s awake. one of his hands, extremely strong and veiny and firm takes you by surprise as it clamps down on the back of your neck so that he can keep you in place too. it was almost as if he was chasing the snugness of your oozing, squelchy mound. an incredulous gasp drifts warmly from your mouth and condenses in nagi’s, for a second you worry that he might push you off and yell for help… but recognition registers on the slope of his handsome features.

he’s awake…how long has seishiro been awake?

moonlight lashes flutter against your face from your proximity and murky grey eyes, littered with exhaustion between their flecks, light up with a sprinkling of hearts as then open to look at you. slowly but surely their gaze drifts downwards, honing in on the point at which his milky cock repeatedly disappears into your puffy pussy, the glaze of your essence on his rock hard cock and clinging to his pubes put on display.

groaning hoarsely and deeply, nagi’s freehand shoots down to the bouncing flesh of your ass without a lick of hesitation and pulls you the rest of the way down his pulsing girth. then up again. then back down — giving him all of the control to pummel your pussy to the high heavens. hard and fast. “i thought… thought you wanted to cum,” the moonlit prince mumbles, voice still puppeteered by the last strings of sleep. “don’t make it a hassle by holding back now… fuck your self down on my cock ‘n cum…”

he’s awake… how much of this has seishiro been awake for?

nagi builds up a formidable momentum inside of you, dragging his seedy tip along your ravaged walls, shocking for someone who had essentially just woken up from a curse of eternal slumber. he doesn’t seem to mind that you’ve been using him like a toy for your own sexual desires, but how could he? not when you’re dousing him in your sweet nectar, slapping your soaked sex down on him and squeezing his aching shaft just like that. how can a man, no less a prince, whine about waking up to such a good fuck?

all you can do is reply with a high pitched squeal, your body jerking and jolting on top of nagi as you struggle to keep up with thrusts. “come now, don’t make me do all of the work,” white starts to froth at the base of his cock, bubbling up while it streaks over your ruined pussy lips and clit. “after all, you started this… took advantage of me while i slept. s’only fair, angel,” he adds nonchalantly and makes you gush unbelievable amounts of arousal at the condescending air about his words.

he’s awake and now seishiro wants you to cum for him.

you do try your very best to do as nagi says, selfishly squeezing down on him and locking his precum bleeding tip inside your gummy walls, but your hips fumble their rhythm as soon as he looks up at you — sweaty hair splayed out in the sheets like an angel, lips parted in both curiosity and awe, cock bulging in your lower stomach. you’re choking the life out of seishiro and he likes it, feeling like he’s been rewarded for just being a pretty prince.

all you want is for him to make you scream and squirt — your clit smears against his pelvis while you buck down on him feverishly. he barely lets you lift of his erection at this point. “‘m close… s-seishiro, please! c-can’t…”

it’s the first time you’ve spoken his name directly to him since your love-at-first-sight encounter in the woods and it flips a switch in the peaceful prince of the night. “y-yeah you can, angel. of course you can…” with a breathy, almost whiny moan, seishiro uses his newfound energy to assault your cunt with a barrage of wild thrusts. jackhammering into you, jerking you about on his throbbing length, coated in a milky mix of your shared arousals. “had no problem… fixing yourself on my cock before. ‘m sure you can make yourself cum on it now that i’m here to help,” he adds through gritted teeth, never letting up on his incredible speed. “shouldn’t be a hassle.”

that’s all you really need to hear before you’re thrown into the deep end, the dark abyss of the night. while the ropes in your tummy unravel and unwind, the tune of sinful sex reaches its final crescendo and the world around you fades away as you’re thrown over the edge and temporarily black out — you practically squirt in an aggressive, clear stream and renders you a cum soaked mess in the prince’s lap. he forces your head into the junction between his neck and jaw, utilising his hold on you to help muffle the scream that burns at the sore edges of your voice as you cum for him. practically drowning nagi in everything you have to give.

as if chasing something, your lover speeds up his thrusts, trying to make sure he isn’t left behind while you cum for him. growls and grunts spill over his lips, nagi’s pink tongue darting out the flavour you’d left on him as he slept. he buries himself deep inside of you, lunging into that one special spot nestled deep within your walls so that he can prolong your release — working hard even though he was just roused from what seemed like an eternal night.

the aftershocks of your high and heavenly spasms of your hole around nagi simply aren’t enough to satisfy him however — whatever remains of an orgasm he had coming fade away like embers of a dying flame while you come down. in fact, before you can even collapse on the white haired royal fully, he uses a strength you were unaware that he possessed to immediately flip you onto your back — manhandling you into the position he desires most. your thighs pushed together, knees pushed into your chest and him… towering over you menacingly.

only now do you realise how… large seishiro is. how much more dominant he is over you. how it may have been a mistake to think you could steal pleasure from him while he slept as a personal reward and not expect consequence. or at least a consequence you might enjoy too. “such a waste,” he comments groggily, pulling his cream soaked cock from its home within your pretty pussy with a hiss. using one hand, nagi grabs at his ravaged shaft and taps it against the swell of your thighs pushed together. “how can you use me like that…and still fail to make me cum? i’ll have to do it myself. what a bother, angel.”

your breath catches in your throat, indicating your surprise. “seishiro…w-wait,” you plead, lips parting in a quiet moan at every squeeze of your flesh and tug of hips to get your body into place. you don’t even know what you’re asking for or why you’re asking him to stop, you still don’t care about the consequences. all you want is for the sleeping beauty above you to fall apart, to hear your name on the tip of his tongue, to feel him cum wherever that may be. “‘m sorry…i-i didn’t know you were awake!”

“don’t care darlin’,” seishiro’s breathy words hang between the pearliness of his teeth, shaggy hair tickling the skin on your calves as he positions them over his shoulders instead of in the air. “don’t r’member much… just my finger gettin’ pricked ‘n then you… using me. on top of me…” his cock makes a home between your plush thighs, pushing back and forth against the flesh to relieve his painfully hard erection. the action itself paints the canvas of your body with remainders of your arousal and essence — thick stringy globs of white forming tracks against soft skin. “f-fuck angel, you put in all this work to make yourself cum using me… now it’s my turn.”

eyes that mirror the silver light of the moon flutter shut and nagi’s nose judges against your ankle — lips grazing the pointed bone and in their wake leave a trail of inflamed bites from where he leaves his mark on you, hoping that they’ll be present on the morning to remind you of who you belong to. his pink tongue peeks out to lick, loll over and soorje what he nips at, but the wet sensation doesn’t distract from curious finger tips that dance their way down and pinch your arousal soaked, fat folds together. neediness streams into your tone as you whimper out for more and your hips arch up to chase the feeling.

in response a lazy grin twitches at the corner of your prince’s mouth, playing with the tackiness your cunt leaves against his hand before he spreads it over his bright red tip as lube. “quit squirming angel, s’too much of a bother to keep you pinned down,” seishiro then adjusts his knees on the bed and his hips begin to brutally rut into you, dragging his sloppy length back and forth, back and forth through the makeshift pocket pussy he’s made out of your quivering limbs. his precum loaded tip prods at the softness of your tummy and earns you a symphony of high pitched moans and heaving pants, harmonised with heavy balls slapping wetly against your clit over and over again. to the point where you fear you may be overcome with another orgasm all too soon.

being used like this, it feels humiliating, shame burns like paper held to a flame underneath the surface of your skin and tears begin to sting in your lower lash line as your entire body jolts up the bed — nagi throwing you about like a rag while he plunges his hips against your doughy thighs. his stamina impresses you too, but you find it hard to dwell on how quickly your lover was able to be riled up after rising from the constraints of an all powerful curse. you don’t mind the aching pulse to your untouched pussy when you get to watch nagi hang over you and hungrily hump your shaky legs — his usually kind eyes are swamped with darkness of lust the back of his pupil practically eclipsing the grey colour.

his head darkens at the roots from how much he’s sweating, droplets crowning his head and running down his back like water on a glass windowpane. he’s a sight to behold, he makes your holes drool and mouth water, the both of you completely wrecked by a little thigh fucking and humping. between his merciless pace and the creaks from the bed, nagi jams a veiny hand between the sensual bump and grind of your bodies to grasp at his thick, temperate shaft — pulling it down to run through the entire length of your slippery before tapping it greedily against your puffy clit and snack between your thighs.

the sweet squeak you release has the prince repeating his action over and over, blood rushing through the purpling veins that spiral down his chubby cock. you’re the perfect sticky little fleshlight for him to fuck, to hold and love, and he hisses, jutting his hips forward in order to chase the euphoria coursing for his veins like the next best drug — all while he pounds your thighs to the starry heavens and back.

juicy, wet sounds fill the room to the brim, a concert and performance of moans and whimpers to match and accompany nagi pounding away at your thighs, grinding against your sex. the white haired man leaks copious amounts of precum, milky like his hair and loose from his sore and sensitive rouge tip, that can’t stop weeping, oozing. his arousal makes each of his movements easier and more fluid, slipping and sliding between your legs and just grazing your sobbing mound. this way; you’re reminded of the sheet sheer size of your lover from the woods — be throbs, swollen and fat with an oncoming orgasm, with the seed that weighs down his balls that swing with each rut of his hips.

a hearty sob escapes you each time they press against you, dragging over your clit that begs for attention. the visage of your prince above you — flushed at the cheeks ( if they’ve been kissed by the petals of a rose), white brows knitted together st the centre of his forehead while ruby lined lips appear bitten and bruised — begins to blur from your saltine tears. you can no longer hold back, raw and rough desire washing away your ability to control your body and your voice.

the way you cry wracks your body with the case of the shakes because of the wild whines resounding from deep within seishiro’s hard chest. each sound makes your cunt quiver, your juices darkening the sheets below and clinging to his snow while pubes, all the while, the prince ravishes you pulling you apart molecule by molecule before he pieces you back together with just a lazy shape drawn against your hardening clit.

“w-what a waste of tears, i thought you wanted to use me,” nagi stutters out, breath condescending against your ankles. it makes him pulse between your thighs, knowing that he’s the one able to reduce you to a mess of cum and tears — even if you did half the work for him while he slept soundly. the fact that you threaten to break, still holding onto your inhibitions and desperate moans, only serves to make home rut his creamy cock against you faster. “you should give it up angel, m-much less of a hassle if you give into me.”

and with that, seishiro leans down to kiss you, his swiftness akin to a starved man. he manhandles your thighs to sit either side of his unfairly slender waist, granting him the room to swoop down until you’re chest to chest — his wide, large frame hiding your shaky one away from the world underneath him as his teeth sink into your bottom lip. he licks into your mouth as you open up with a shy mewl, devious tongue wrapping itself around your own as he tastes himself there. “thank you for waking me up, angel,” spit slings between your eager mouths, movements a little out of sync and languid since they’re so driven by a raw passion that simmers underneath the sleepy fog clouding the prince’s brain. “wakin’ me up to do this,”

he settles back on his haunches after coming up for air, laughing tiredly at the pout on your lips from the loss of contact.

but now that you’re spread eagle with your cunt drooling openly on the bed and glistening under the moon’s light — the white haired royal angles his hips just right, shuddering from head to toe as his sex soiled girth slots between your swollen folds perfectly. his bulbous tip peeks out against your clit and he circles it against you, desperate to hear you wail like the wind again. “feels so good against you, s’not fair how good you feel,” he says under his stuttering breath, using a thumb and forefinger to spread your pussy lips apart — groaning at the strings of clear slick that tie them together. ““later on, when i’ve got more energy, i’m going to fuck this pretty hole. make sure i really have my turn.” nagi promises and swallows thickly at the raunchy sight of you, viscous drops of your treacle like nectar running over your slit and down to your puckered asshole.

you’re grateful for his touch, the friction you’re about to receive… but you miss seishiro’s lips and his tongue so deep in your mouth he might as well have been fucking it too. why do you miss those luscious lips? because they keep you quiet, muffle your embarrassingly high moans and withering screams of pleasure, cover up your glass shattering cries that accompany your teary face. he’s so heavy and raw against you, grinding his shaft that shoots tiny spirts of precum onto your cunt while you match his rhythm — it’s a wonder why you’re crying right now. not to mention the rounds of overstimulation he’s put you through.

“you were so quiet before, angel, what happened?” a condescending tone fills out the weight in nagi’s voice, punctuated by the harsh lunges of his hips forwards as he smothers his girth in the juicy offerings from your folds. part of the prince wants to selfishly keep you writhing against his hot and heavy dick for all of eternity, adoring the way you bleat and cry for him through bleary Bambi eyes. hes sure you wouldn’t mind it either, but he’s too far gone to keep edging you both forever. “does it feel that good? so fucking good that you can’t help but whine and whimper for me… s’too much of hassle to hold back, angel. go one, cry pretty f’me, pretty girl…”

you burst into tears, letting your emotions overwhelm you. “feels so, so good, my prince,” you slur back as that familiar twinge of pleasure begins to rapidly mount within your tummy once more — throwing an avid, heated look his way. “s-sei, ‘m close,” one of your shaky hands take purchase in the silvery roots of his hair while the other grasps him shoulder so that you have the leverage to grind into him — rocking your hips in a fluid motion like a boat on rapid waves. sanity slips away from you under nagi, his energy completely unmatched as you struggle to keep up with his pace. the way he chases your sweltering, souse sex with the speed of the kingdom’s finest race horse. he pushes forward when you pull back and it goes both ways — one moment can’t happen without the other.

nagi simpers above you, smirking lazily as he pushes back the sweaty snowy white roots of his hair — drinking in the sight of you. “that so? you’re close? wanna feel it’s, s’too much effort to have you hold it…not when you sound so wet…” both of you move with increased vigour the closer you get to cloud nine, seishiro cooing to you like over the crude sound of your sexes slipping over each other. “…y’should be embarrassed, yanno,” he presses against you, whimpering happily at the feeling of your breasts bouncing against his chest with each thrust, his breath hot against the tips of your ears and weakly grinds against you clit now — his own orgasm on the horizon. “taking advantage of me like that. using me. s’naughty princess. such a hassle.”

he tucks his face against your neck, teeth grazing over the skin while he listens out for your hiccuped sobs and heaving chest — you’re so loud when you’re close and it pleases nagi. he can’t stop tapping your clit and nipping at your flesh — desperate to hear how much louder you can get without holding back. a gargled gasp from you has his cock twitching and threatening to burst with release, while the condescending gripes that vibrate in his chest shoot straight to you’re swollen clit.

listening to you cry and settling his greyed gaze on your puffy eyes is more than enough for nagi to cum, the string of his own sanity snapping as you scream for him. “you look like you’re about to cum, angel,” he purrs lowly, panting between each word. “mmmh, don’t you think i deserve to go first? fuuuuck i’m close…so close. do you want it inside? i won’t ruin the bed that way… wont need to clean it up…” seishiro rambles over the spit pooling pathetically on his tongue, bucking faster and harder against your slippery cunt with each syllable he manages to get out. “…wanna put it inside you as you cum.”

you barely have it in you to respond and you can hardly make sense of it all, brain running a mile a minute. the feeling of your orgasm twists in your lower stomach, stacking painfully in your pelvis at a rapid pace you can’t even comprehend. “yes…! want it inside, gods yes!” you sigh out, voice rising several octaves. “want you inside!”

though it’s entirely selfish of you to make demands in the moment, after how you so sinfully used the sleeping prince as your prize — nagi relents, slipping the delicious curve of his cock past your puckered, fluttering entrance just as he reaches his peak. it makes him shake as though the gods have stepped down from the heavens and set foot on earth and he really can’t help it, how much he cums. there's so much of it, white hot seed that spews into you hotly, so pent up from all the pleasure you’d given him while he slept. his heavy load pulses against your sensitive, ribbed walls and sticks — lubing up your insides while he pushes his milky cock deeper into your bare cunt.

“f-fuck!” the white haired prince curses loud enough to rouse his loyal subjects within a ten mile radius with one final swing of his hips. “f-fuck angel… gods!” strings of opaque seed tie the veins on his shaft to your precious hole and as he twitches with the last spurts of his orgasm — your own high is triggered.

white flashes behind your eyes and the dam breaks for the third and final time — your release trickles out of you in small waves and you let out a borderline pornographic moan. nagi hums happily at the feeling of you squirting around him, Essen e clinging to his pubic hair too.

for a second or two, seishiro relishes in the way you convulse around him, giving you a moment to calm down while he pacifies your high pitched squeals with gentle kisses along the side of your head. you’re still quivering when he collapses on top of you exhausted — neither of you having the capacity to speak properly. “d-don’t move… jus’ lay here with me,” he murmurs, tripping on his words. “‘m tired… don’t wanna move,”

you hardly have the strength to deny seishiro or push him off, snuggling into him as the pair of you roll onto your sides. “you’re tired… you almost slept for an eternity!” a laugh escapes you in reply.

“and guess who woke me up and made me work to cum. s’on you not me. fair is fair.” nagi quips back, burying his face into your neck.

you suppose that he has a point, nuzzling him from below as the two of you drift off without the fear of never waking up, of succumbing to lifelong sleep — content, happy and fucked out by your sleeping beauty.

the end.

#✐ᝰ KINKTOBER ‘24 #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #nagi x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #nagi smut #nagi x you #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro smut #nagi seishiro x you #seishiro nagi smut #bllk thirst #tteokdoroki #blue lock thirst #blue lock imagines #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing

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louisa-gc · 10 months ago

Text

how to start reading again

from someone who was a voracious reader until high school and is now getting back into it in her twenties.

start with an old favourite. even though it felt a little silly, i re-read the harry potter series one christmas and it wiped away my worry that i wasn't capable of reading anymore. they are long books, but i was still able to get completely immersed and to read just as fast as i had years and years ago.

don't be afraid of "easier" books. before high school i was reading the french existentialists, but when getting back into reading, i picked up lucinda riley and sally rooney. not my favourite authors by far, but easier to read while not being totally terrible. i needed to remind myself that only choosing classics would not make me a better or smarter person. if a book requires a slower pace of reading to be understood, it's easier to just drop it, which is exactly what i wanted to avoid at first.

go for essays and short stories. no need to explain this one: the shorter the whole, the less daunting it is. i definitely avoided all books over 350 pages at first and stuck to essay collections until i suddenly devoured donna tartt's goldfinch.

remember it's okay not to finish. i was one of those people who finished every book they started, but not anymore! if i pick up a book at the library and after a few chapters realise i'd rather not read it, i just return it. (another good reason to use your local library! no money spent on books you might end up disliking.)

analyse — or don't. some people enjoy reading more when they take notes or really stop to think about the contents. for me, at first, it was more important to build the habit of reading, and the thought of analysing what i read felt daunting. once i let go of that expectation, i realised i naturally analyse and process what i read anyway.

read when you would usually use your phone. just as i did when i was a child, i try to read when eating, in the bathroom, on public transport, right before sleeping. i even read when i walk, because that's normally a time i stare at my screen anyway. those few pages you read when you brush your teeth and wait for a friend very quickly stack up.

finish the chapter. if you have time, try to finish the part you're reading before closing the book. usually i find i actually don't want to stop reading once i get to the end of a chapter — and if i do, it feels like a good place to pick up again later.

try different languages. i was quickly approaching a reading slump towards the end of my exchange year, until i realised i had only had access to books in english and that, despite my fluency, i was tired of the language. so as soon as i got back home i started picking up books in my native tongue, which made reading feel much easier and more fun again! after some nine months, i'm starting to read in english again without it feeling like a huge task.

forget what's popular. i thought social media would be a fun way to find interesting books to read, but i quickly grew frustrated after hating every single book i picked up on some influencer's recommendation. it's certainly more time-consuming to find new books on your own, but this way i don't despise every novel i pick up.

remember it isn't about quantity. the online book community's endless posts about reading 150 books each year or 6 books in a single day easily make us feel like we're slow, bad readers, but here's the thing: it does not matter at all how many books you read or what your reading pace is. we all lead different lives, just be proud of yourself for reading at all!

stop stressing about it. we all know why reading is important, and since the pandemic reading has become an even more popular hobby than it was before (which is wonderful!). however, there's no need to force yourself to be "a reader". pick up a book every now and then and keep reading if you enjoy it, but not reading regularly doesn't make you any less of a good person. i find the pressure to become "a person who reads" or to rediscover my inner bookworm only distances me from the very act of reading.

#louisa-gc #academia #studyblr #aesthetic #book #books #reading #read #advice #help #university #study #uni #library #bibliophile #it girl #that girl #habits #booktok #booktube #bookstagram

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luludeluluramblings · 4 months ago

Note

tbh I’m more intrigued by the idea of college-age Reader getting pregnant while unmarried still living in the manor and NO ONE has any idea who the father is (maybe she does, but she’s withholding that for now or maybe he’s not in the picture?) and it’s the biggest freak out ever. that just seems so fucking wild and potentially hilarious to me. and nobody noticing she’s pregnant until she’s farther along? or them finding out randomly?? imagine:

damian: you look pregnant. what is wrong with you.

reader: i am pregnant though

the batfam: ????????!!!!!!!!!! and then she proposes that now that she’s old enough and starting a new chapter in her life raising a baby and all she should just move out! (cue everyone disliked that meme)

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Okay, I think I'm about to become a Pregnancy!Reader writer. Which, I'm not mad about. Kind think it would be fun, but I know the trope isn't for everyone. So, if it’s not your thing, I’m sorry.

A/N: Some of this is based off of things from my own pregnancies.

A/N: Oh, no. Frick, I wanna make this a series now. Check the bottom, cause I have a plot idea for this and I want opinions on it. I spiraled, this was supposed to be a quick blurb. I got carried away. Gonna build up to the yandere shenanigans because I’m turning into a writer with a million WIPs.

A/N: Tagging @skay-ali because I like their The Forgotten Daughter series.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Very minor Yandere Themes (like barely there), minor NSFW, graphic descriptions of pregnancy and medical procedures, Vomiting.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You don't really remember that night it happened. But, it only happened once and after you swore you'd never drink again. The hangover after that night had been one of the worst of your short life.

In fact, the sticky feeling between your legs and bitter taste on your tongue had also added to your decision to swear of these college parties. Luckily, you have enough of your memory to remember that you and your partner from that night had both been willing even when wasted. Even if you couldn't remember their name. Or, their face.

It takes you a while to notice. One missed cycle wasn't anything to freak out about, and it was exam season. The stress had probably caused the nausea. It wasn't until you were heading down to breakfast one morning and smelled the burnt eggs in the kitchen that Stephanie had burnt that you realized something might be wrong.

You, of course, ignore it. It was just a fluke. Burnt eggs weren't appetizing to anyone. But, then you nearly faint walking through the perfume section after looking to restock your favorite bottle of scent.

The doctor you finally went to another week later had asked about your cycle and the last time you had been intimate with someone. That's when the reality of things started to set in. You hadn't even thought to do an at home test to check. Your doctor was kind though, saying they could just do a quick urine sample and blood test just to make sure. It might be something else.

The next few minutes felt like ages. But, when the Doctor came back to tell you the positive results you panicked. Not as in panicked as in you broke down, but you threw up a mask. You're good at doing that. You must get it from your father.

When she asks you if this is good news or bad news you can't help, but blurt that it's good. Great even. Which causes her to beam at you. Before you know it, you're being handed a complementary diaper bag with formula and tiny bottles while being given the rundown on your possible due date and future appointments. You nodded you're head along with the information, sliding the paper's into the diaper bag as she hands them to you.

But, then she turns to you with delight and tells you that the Ultra Sound tech has an opening and you're just far along enough they can do your first ultrasound. It'll only be a thirty minute wait.

After nodding along once more, you go back into the waiting room. Holding your new bag with white knuckles and falling into deep thought.

This is happening. But, how? Are you even fit to be a parent? You've hardly ever been loved. How are you going to love someone else? How are you going to do this? What will the family think? What will your few friends think? You don't even remember who their father is. This is impossible. You're not ready. You'll never be ready. That churning feeling is in your stomach again and you feel that single piece of toast you had for breakfast about to come back up.

The thirty minutes fly by with those thoughts in your head. They still swirl in your head as your go back into the ultrasound room.

It's dark, but the tech had few soft lights on in the room. Its actually kind of... cozy.

What's not cozy it the tech telling you that she's going to stick a wand up your bits so you could see the baby. Your eyes screwing shut at the cold invasive feeling.

But, when you open them, she turns the screen for you to see. It's almost amazing how fast the image appears on the screen.

And, their moving. Actually moving. You end up laughing at the sight, causing the screen to flicker and the little blob to move. When the nurse plays the heart beat you can feel yours stuttering in your chest.

Watching them bounce in there with each laugh, it’s easy for the next words to spill out of your mouth.

“Oh, I’m gonna love you.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Every step after that feels remarkably less lonely. It’s not just you anymore. You have someone who you’re going to love.

You don’t bother telling the Family. Bruce would just lecture you on being reckless while the other’s would judge you for it.

Honestly, you don’t care if they did. This is your baby.

Funnily enough, for a house full of detectives and highly intelligent vigilantes no one actually notices. Not even Cassandra. It’s a bit insulting how much they don’t pay attention. But, your symptoms soon make it so you don’t care.

The waves of exhaustion, the way everything smells strong and certain things make you want to gag. Heartburn that burns your throat. The subtle cravings that make you cry when you can’t fulfill them. Thankfully you finished your exams because you were too tired to even move from your bed most mornings due to strange nightmares.

Eventually, someone does notice. And, it’s not anyone you would expect.

Of all things you cried over on the pantry floor, it had to be salt and vinegar chips. They hadn’t been what you wanted, but it was too late to go get french fries and a smoothie at this hour in Gotham. And, you stuffed them down your throat with angry tears.

It was Stephanie of all people to find you. You gave her a sharp glare when she seemed to grow wide eyed. Normally you avoid her gaze, but you were quite pissed about having chips in your mouth and not fries. As her eyes grew wider, your nose wrinkled in further annoyance at her.

Just as you’re about to tell her off, she speaks.

“Do you— um, want something else?”

It’s pitiful how fast your snarl turns into a pleading pout.

“Yes, please. I want fries. I want Jokerized fries so badly.” You practically blubber when she gives you a pointed nod towards the car garage.

It takes you a bit to get off the floor despite the fact that your bump is hardly noticeable, but Stephanie noticed the extremely subtle curve.

“How far?” She asks hesitantly, looking from the bump to your face.

You also hesitant for a moment, looking up at her with tears on your cheeks and a serious look in your eyes. “14 Weeks.”

Her eyebrows raise and a wiry pout appears on her face. “Damn. You’re smaller than I was at that time, so not fair.”

The slightly surprised that information gives you almost makes you pause. But, if you had you would’ve probably toppled back down to the pantry floor.

“Explain on the way?” You ask, still a bit nervous. The two of you had never been close since you moved into the manor less than a handful of years back.

“Sure.” She grins, leading the way.

As you both walk, she whispers. “Does Bruce know?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Ah.” Stephanie managed to hide the winces from you.

When you two finally make into the car, you’re already feeling better about life. You’re about to have your fries, and possibly a shake too. You didn’t expect to have any company, but surprisingly it’s nice.

Stephanie drives, and get the fries to go. Munching on them as Stephanie drives you back to the manor. Her sharing her own pregnancy experience.

"Wait, so Tim dated you when you were pregnant with another dudes kid? Babe, forget being me being small, you got game."

"Damn right I do." She says smugly, stuffing her own fries in her mouth. "So, um, do you wanna talk about what happened with you?"

And, just like that your mood shifts.

"No."

"Oh- Oh! I'm sorr-" She starts up, and you can tell she's assuming the worst.

"Don't you start, Stephanie." You interrupt with a pointed glare. "I don't want to talk about it because it's none of y'all's business."

That makes her cough on her french fry. "Wait, wait, what do you mean? Don't you want help?"

"Nah, I got it." Comes your stubborn reply, glaring out the window as you dip your fry into the cheesecake milkshake.

"... You should tell Bruce." She suggest after a moment of awkward silence.

"What? So he can ignore his grandchild, too?" Your filter is none existent with your hormones all out of wack.

"He doesn't ignore you-"

"Oh, yes the fuck he does." Your firmly state. Growing a bit heated. "Y'all all figgin do."

Stephanie is about to roll her eyes, chalking your words to you just being unreasonable. But, then the thought starts to creep upon her with each passing building when she realizes this is the first time she's actually hung out with you. Ever.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs to you. The silence falling over you both as the cars continues back to the manor.

"... I'm only forgiving you because you bought my fries..."

"Really?! That's all I had to do?"

"What? I was desperate for this- Wait! Hang on. Stop the car. Stop the car-"

"What? Why?! Are you- OH! Fuck!"

You ended up regurgitating up all the fries you had just eaten. Right into your lap.

"Oooo, that's nasty." Stephanie says, cracking the windows.

"Is it bad that I still want to eat them?" You mumble to her, eyeing the remaining fries.

"Please, please, wait till we get back or I'm gonna hurl, too."

"Fine." Comes your reply. Your eyes drifting shut for a moment. "If you tell anyone I'm gonna tell Cassandra about your crush on her."

"How did you- Frick, you are more like Bruce then I realize." Her voice going from panic to begrudging realization.

"Now, that's offenseive."

"Oh, come on. You're kids gonna have some of Bruce's DNA too."

"Eww. Eww. Don't remind me."

The banter between you both coming back with ease.

When you make it back to the manor, parting ways for the night. You feel at ease. You may have made have finally made a new friend in all this and gained a pillar of support.

As you shower and finish off your fries, you can't help but think about the apartments you had been looking at. Wondering what Stephanie will thinking of your nursery ideas.

Down in the cave, Stephanie slowly walks down the steps. Realizing this might have just gotten complicated.

"You okay, Steph?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Soooooo, what if, and hear me out, wee add some baby daddy drama to this?

A/N: Please note, I write a Reader that DID NOT grow up with the Bat Family, which means we could have some really really juicy drama here. But, we could just keep the options limited to just close friends of the Bat family.

A/N: What do y'all think? Baby Daddy drama? One of the Bat Boys the Daddy? One of the other vigilantes? Should I do a Baby Daddy poll? I just feel like this is an opportunity.

A/N: Also, Stephanie was a teen mom in some comics from my research. Which I think adds to this and gives her a better chance of bonding with Reader until shit goes down.

#yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #platonic batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #anon ask #answered asks #pregnant!reader

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fairestwriting · 9 days ago

Note

sorry if you’ve done something like this-

What about Jade, Leona, Jamil and Vil with a S/O that somebody tried to love potion?

…warning for minor book/chapter 4 spoilers in the jamil one? in case anyone is a newcomer here. there was just No way i could write this without mentioning his lore. like. come on

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

Honestly, it’d take anyone some serious guts to try to do this. Or serious ignorance. Or straight up hubris, or maybe all of the above at the same time— Since your first few friendlier hangouts with Leona, it was pretty much known to most people who knew you that you were completely off-limits. Even if you just stayed friends, no sane person was going to mess with anyone who’s close to him. It’s almost an unspoken, pretty much school wide rule.

It was an especially bad choice for that perpetrator to try to slip you the potion during lunchtime. Maybe they’re a classmate you barely know, maybe they pretend to be a friend, it’d definitely have to be someone who could get away with approaching you to pretend to want some casual conversation. This privilege was soon to end, however, since you had agreed with Leona to meet up with him at the greenhouse after you ate.

The second you step inside, he can smell that something is off. By then you can already feel it starting to take effect, your head feeling foggy and suddenly occupied with thoughts of that person, which just feels confusing for now. You walk up to him, he’s sitting up with a frown on his face, asking you to come closer. Hazy, you step forward, and through your clouded vision you see him leaning in to smell you. It feels weird at the moment, you’re not sure if you’re comfortable with this— Even though that’s your boyfriend, you think, maybe you’d rather be this close with someone else…

He can’t tell it’s a love potion exactly, at least not just by smelling you, but he knows something is off. “Have you been up to anything weird lately, Herbivore?” He asks, his voice full of suspicion. You just shake your head, mention your classes today were all unremarkable, then so was lunch, you just met up with your friend, while you were eating. Somehow you can’t stop yourself from letting the subject linger on them, even though it puzzles you on the inside. He quickly picks up on what must have happened.

Really, anyone who even considers trying this has some nerve. He even says that out loud to them, after dragging you out of the greenhouse into a hunt for this specific person. You won’t even get the chance to remember much about the incident. Next thing you know, you’re in one of the potions lab, with an emptied vial of antidote in your hands. Leona is standing next to you with crossed arms and a death glare, and your “friend” is shaking behind a cauldron, having prepared that in record time. Even if notice of the incident spreads, Leona definitely won’t want you to leave his side anytime soon…

𐙚 Jade Leech

Another case in which attempting anything with you is definitely a feat of courage. Even though there’s a higher chance they wouldn’t know you’re dating Jade in the first place, because of how private he is, he’s clearly fond of you. And that’s without even taking into consideration how often he’s around. Jade doesn’t have the sort of infamy Leona dows, but it’s not any less intimidating of a situation, anyone with eyes can tell he’s watching every person around him very closely…

They’d really have to get lucky to get you to consume even a single drop of anything. They might have even tried multiple times, in multiple different ways. Spiking your food or drink is not an option at all with him, because he’s sitting with you while you eat, and who would want to take that chance? If they got you, it was probably by offering you an “extra drink they got from the vending machine”, which might as well have been attempted before, with Jade successfully distracting you from the drink every time.

”My, how kind of you. I’ve heard that soda is very popular, is that true?” Somehow, he shows up just in time to strike up conversation with the person, placing a hand on the can they tampered with. ”I don’t recall seeing this brand back home. Would you mind if I had a small sip first?” He looks at them, then at you, with a strange menacing smile. Once again, that person is taking the can back and stammering excuses that make less and less sense as time passes…

If they’re brave/stupid enough, and you’re oblivious enough, Jade will just sneakily make himself your bodyguard, ready to catch any new attempts and stop them right before you could get the spiked drink anywhere near your lips. He’ll do it as many times as he has to— And if it goes on for long enough, and one day they decide to not take their little trap back, he will literally just open it and drink the whole thing. He’ll do it while making eye contact with them, even. “Oh, I’m sorry, my hand slipped. It’s really unfortunate when that happens, isn’t it? It’s very easy to forget, since most of the time it doesn’t cause any harm… But the wrong ‘slip’ could really cost you your hand, you know… It’s important to be careful.” He doesn’t look away from them for even one second.

You’re confused as hell, Jade is weird a lot of the time, but just what’s going on right now? He hands them back the can, and just waves his hand at your question, telling you he’ll explain on the way as he walks off to get some antidote. From the nurse, specifically. And it’s not because he can’t make his own, because he could probably do it before the dizziness even hit— It’s to get your little “friend” in trouble with the staff, he’ll even play up the symptoms to make sure they get a nasty suspension… Even if they’re not expelled, you somehow never see them again.

𐙚 Jamil Viper

Not happening. At all. You have no “off limits” fame, no one knows you’re dating (Upon Jamil’s own request) and even if they did, they wouldn’t be that intimidated to try to make a move on you normally. He’s too busy to be lingering around you too much, plus he just wants you to have your own independence in general… everything is seemingly stacked in the favor of that person who wants to slip you the potion, but it’s nowhere near enough to get past Jamil. It just could never be.

…So you’d think it’d be easy for someone to catch you off guard, try to slip something in your food or drink. But there’s just no way that potion isn’t even making it into the vial. Really, with the upbringing Jamil had, could any fellow teenager manage to fly under his radar when trying to tamper with your things? Not a chance. He’s learned to spot real, professional assassins going after Kalim. Catching on to some other student’s creepy behavior is nothing to him.

He knew it before he even heard that person’s name, or saw them talk to you with his own eyes. It just takes a few conversations about this weird classmate of yours who you started suspecting might like you for him to be able to tell they don’t have good intentions. ”...I know I might sound paranoid, but I think you should be careful around them.” Is all he says, when you two talk about it the first time. You know him well enough to be aware of how serious that warning is.

Nothing is said after that, but he’s watching them closely too. You don’t eat lunch together that often, but Jamil always watches your table from afar when he’s not there. At first it’s just out of habit, but now that he’s got an eye on this person, their every move has your full attention. And it’s all just too familiar, the way they seem to also watch your table, or more specifically, watch you while you eat. He can even sense their frustration at how guarded you’ve gotten since his warning.

You’ll never even hear about a possible poisoning attempt because he catches them in the middle of their potion brewing— With a good chance he wasn’t even trying to do that. He just happened to spot them acting weird in the hallways, and decided to investigate. Following them to the laboratory, standing outside of the door to see what’s happening, maybe take a video or two. He then walks inside, no notable expression on his face, and speaks to them. ”I wouldn’t do this if I were you. Even making this potion outside of class could get you in serious trouble.” Nothing else is said, he shows them the video on his phone screen, and walks off. Next thing you hear, they got suspended, an when they come back, they won’t even dare to meet your eyes.

𐙚 Vil Schoenheit

The day you two agreed you’d make your relationship official, you also had a very long talk about the things that it might entail—The worries had been stewing in his mind for a while now, at first regarding his own reputation, but eventually they turned their focus to you. He’s had people interacting strangely with people who were just his dormmates, so one could only wonder how they’d treat someone they suspect is his partner…You’re warned at the very start that it’s a good idea to be cautious of others. But because it’s Vil, and he has all those vocal, sometimes fanatic admirers that are seemingly just everywhere, it can be kind of sadly easy to forget that this type of person could fixate on you too.

It becomes a bit of a dilemma for him, when he hears about this classmate of yours you’ve been talking to occasionally. On one hand, of course he wants you to have friends, he’s not crazy. On the other, he already has a weird feeling from the interactions you describe. Then under all his common sense, he just feels sort of jealous in general. You might notice he suddenly looks alarmed, and he might even remind you it’s important to be careful with others. But even if you take it to heart, would you really outright assume they were planning anything so creepy?

It’s a thankful coincidence that dating Vil also means learning a lot about potions. You often sit around in the Pomefiore dorm laboratory while he’s doing something, and he’s happy to explain the process to you however many times you need. Ironically, the specific subject of attempted love potion slips might come up. It happens to celebrities often, after all, it’s not crazy to think someone would try to get to him— ”They teach you to not eat or drink anything a fan gives you. You accept it if they’re handing it out, but you don’t touch it. And it’s not just for the sake of keeping up with your diet.” He retells you what he was taught. ”You don’t even donate it, since it could be tampered with. Usually, there are tells, but not always…”

Then question becomes, how skilled could another student get, specifically when compared to how observant you can be? It could go either way here. It’s easy to be alarmed by anyone offering you snacks or drinks after Vil tells you these stories, but you’re not a celebrity, so would that really happen to you? What if you’re just forgetful, or they really manage to get you at a moment when you’re vulnerable? Luckily, no matter how sneaky someone is, they can’t hide the effects of the potion forever. On the color of your drink, the smell, the taste… or, in a worst case scenario, in the way it feels when it starts to kick in.

You’ll know something is wrong, and he’s lectured you enough you know to get an antidote from the nurse if needed, and you know to report it to school staff. It’s dealt with quickly enough, but no matter when he finds out, he’s outraged all the same. ”How does a student get away with even trying to brew something like this? Staff shouldn’t allow just anybody to use laboratories unsupervised…” Vil fusses over you, smoothing your clothes just so his hands have something to do. Even if you didn’t swallow any of the potion, he tells you to take the day off to rest and stays nearby. Of course he wouldn’t just let the situation be solved without reacting, but first, he has to be sure you’re safe.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #jade leech #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #leona kingscholar x reader #jade leech x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #twst headcanons #twst imagines #lis writing

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star2fishmeg · 7 months ago

Text

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴡʀᴀᴘs

[4.4k] Pairing | bsf!Luke Hughes x bsf!afab!reader Summary | luke and y/n are tired of feeling left behind and help each other out…but in the company of their friends. but it makes a good story, right? Warnings | 18+ smut, kinda slow start, best friends to lovers, long haired luke!!! Bc I love long hair, umich!luke, (basically public) fingering, swearing, appearance and sex insecurities, tiny bit of angst but not really, mutual pining, making out Authors Note | im in such a luke brainrot it’s painful, this was supposed to be a blurb but I can’t control myself but anyway, this is my first hockey fic i hope its alright. Based on this after hours post! This is a work of fiction, please remember that my dudes

Luke felt like a creep. But she looked so at peace sitting on the lake's docks, feet dangling and toes skimming the water's surface. While she was nothing but a silhouette in the distance, the sunset cascading on the horizon complimenting her like a portrait in a museum. He also wasn’t sure on how long he’d been standing at the sliding patio doors, the UMich boy’s voices blended out into a white noise while his mind wandered to crevices of thoughts he’d been avoiding for months, but anything to escape Ethan and Luca’s conversations about girlfriend stories. Yes, he was happy for them, found it cute in fact, but when was it his turn to have that chapter in his life? He could have it if he didn’t panic and fumble at every party they threw, just a bit more alcohol and maybe he’d have a chance but like all victims of tragedy, no one would ever be her. Could ever replace her or even substitute her. So, while his curls bounced in the gentle breeze, Luke Hughes admired the only girl in the University of Michigan that’s ever made his heart ache and contort in bittersweet ways.

With a firm slap to his back, Luke’s daydream snapped back to reality, to Dylan Duke grinning and wiggling his eyebrows. The most painful thing Dylan had to endure since he met Luke was watching his friend follow y/n like a lost puppy begging for attention, and there was nothing more he wanted than for the two to just kiss already. They almost did, once, at someone’s birthday party when they both nursed a bottle of tequila. But Dylan never told them that, he wasn’t entirely sure if he dreamt it, if he was honest.

“Just go talk to her, be honest,” Dylan said with a light chuckle, nudging Luke towards the porch steps.

Luke’s legs stopped stiff, and spun to face Dylan in protest, “No! What do I even say? ‘Oh, hey y/n I know we’ve been friends for a while, but I’m in love with you haha hope this doesn’t make it awkward’? Like, come on.” With the way Dylan’s grin turned almost menacing, Luke felt his heart almost stop, his stupidity catching up with him, “This stays between us, Duker.”

He groaned and watched Dylan giggle his way back inside. Wingman or menace? Fine line, but at least he was better than Jack. Who quite literally tried trapping him and y/n in a closet when he found out, hoping for the best. Perhaps Dylan would actually help him get somewhere, he’d spent many parties coaxing Luke into making a move but Luke being the humble soul he took pride in, let her have her peace. Oh, how much he regretted it every time he heard her laugh because of another guy.

Thankfully the docks were at the far end of his garden, out of earshot and almost out of sight, if you weren’t spying. He stood silently, just taking in her very existence alone. If she weren’t wearing his hoodie so proudly, he would’ve sat down by now but the heat that flushed into his cheeks prominently just had to ease before he could show his face. Maybe she’d find it cute that his face flushed so easily, or maybe she’d think he was a fool for thinking he had a chance. Girls were hard to read, so many codes and hints, he couldn’t keep up with them all and God forbid you had an ugly code name. Watching her like that did raise the thought, what was his code name? Did he really want to know?

“I can feel you starin’,” her voice chimed, their eyes meeting as she craned her neck, “you gonna join or just stand?”

Luke’s lips pulled into his famous half-smirk, “I like lookin’ at pretty things, can you blame a man?” He sat next to her, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder like they usually did, the weight of his boldness lifting off his chest. “What’s runnin’ through that mind of yours?”

“Who said I was thinking about anything? Maybe I was finally catching a break from the zoo. Maybe I was thinking that you need a haircut.” Her laugh was like music to his ears, her voice his favourite song and every word that rolled off her tongue felt like ecstasy surging through him and freezing the world around them.

Spending a summer in a lake house was the only way y/n ever wanted to live. An oasis of serenity and laughs, endless memories, and an escape. But while she dipped her toes in the water, watching her reflection ripple, the everlasting thought that it was fleeting crawled its way back to the surface whether she wanted it to or not. The boys had been doing this longer than she had, it was her first time at the lake house and possibly her last. But there was nothing wrong with enjoying it while it lasted, being trapped under the same roof as the boys wasn’t as bad as she’d assumed. Except for the smells, they were straight-up disrespectful. Would she still love it as much if she was with other friends? Hard to say, if Luke was there, everything would be fine. Maybe a couple more girls would’ve been nice too, though.

“Please, you’re staring blankly, don’t try me.” Luke scoffed playfully, shoulder gently nudging hers as she rolled her eyes, unable to resist a gleaming smile. As much as she wanted to rebuttal, he was right. They’d met on the first week of university, Luke starting hockey practice and y/n starting as their new social girl and since then the pair of them had been two peas in a pod. Completely enamoured with each other, attached at the hip, where Luke went, he’d bring y/n, his person. “Wait, you think I need a haircut? Is it that bad?”

She laughed, Luke, stooping so she could thread her fingers through his unruly curls gently, something only she was allowed to do, “Nah, I like your hair long, cut it and I’ll cut you.” They pulled back, sitting in their original postures and watched the sun’s pinks fade to oranges, “I was thinking about how many girls you’ve brought here.”

He blinked twice, turning his head slowly to face her and to his surprise his eyes met hers. There was a gloss to them, illuminated brightly by the sunset but like glass as if she were about to break. Heart beating in his ears, he licked his lips, almost quivering when he began to speak.

“Just you.” His voice just above a whisper, husky, “Only you. Always you.” Their gazes lingered, and his eyes fluttered to her lips for just a split second before he found himself licking his lips again, feeling his throat dry at the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. His heart ached, he didn’t have half the guts the Fantilli brothers did, if he had then maybe he would’ve at least wrapped his arm around her. Instead, he sat like he was paralysed, just shoulder to shoulder as she rubbed her bare foot against his leg, their skins touching, lighting little fires up his body and his stomach gaining a warmth he’d only felt in the after-hours of his bedroom.

“Lu?” she rested her head on his shoulder, staring back out towards the horizon, “Do you ever feel like you’re so far behind the people around you? Like you’re missing out.”

Luke leaned his head against hers, almost nuzzling into it as he thought. It was a heavy question, one that’d been weighing on her for a while. Or he assumed, considering she’d never openly asked the group. That’s what made him feel special. Her feet hung still, ending their teasing game and just fell limp. He exhaled, could he let his pride go and agree? Or could he completely one-up himself and disagree, which made him braver? He loathed the storms she started in him, thoughts he never imagined he would think in his hockey brain. One girl could change his entire train of thought, change his heartbeat, change his mood. One woman he pined like a lost puppy over.

“Sometimes. What do you mean?”

“Like, all my friends have these insane hook-ups and embarrassing sex stories and I have nothing. Yeah, I’ve had boyfriends before, but I was younger and stupid then. I go out with my friends and I’m basically invisible to any guy who approaches us, just feel unlovable. And now here I am, twenty years old and a fucking virgin with little experience and no wild stories.” She vented, barely taking a breath as the words spilt from her mouth. Luke’s chest twisted, his face softening when she snuggled into his side. “I don’t know where I’m going wrong, Lu.”

He paused and bit his lip when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her body into his chest. She melted into his touch, getting a whiff of his woody, amber cologne, her favourite one at that, the one he always wore. She’d never had the chance to properly relish in his touch, was his chest always this firm? Arms always bring this much security? Fuck, when did his hand get so sexy when on her body, gliding down her arm to nestle in the curve of her waist. With her ear pressed to him, the thundering in his chest surrendered his cover entirely. Cool and collected Luke Hughes was secretly a bumbling mess.

“I get you.” he finally spoke, ears burning when her finger traced shapes on his thigh, “My entire life has been hockey, so not a lot of space for experiences either. Not enough time for relationships between practice and games, development camps and time with family. A lot of the girls who liked me didn’t really like that. That or they liked my brothers and friends more, they are a lot more attractive than me, so I don’t blame them. M’just average.”

Y/n pulled away almost instantly, her eyebrows knitted and jaw agape. For a moment she thought she heard him wrong, ‘a lot more attractive than me’, ‘just average’? Delving into Luke’s psyche turned out to be an entirely different road trip than she had thought, heartstrings tugged as her lips fell to a frown. Who in the world made him feel like that? Who did she need to hunt down? But then again, Luke’s blood boiled hearing how insignificant she felt and who exactly made her think that to start with?

“Luke Hughes you are not average! You’re the hottest guy I know!” she yelped, the hand that drew gentle patterns now clutching his thigh tight. Luke gulped but didn’t retract away from the noise. His brain was too busy short-circuiting over the fact her fingers were dangerously close to his crotch, doing his best to contain himself with slow breaths, “They just didn’t give you a chance, if they really knew you, they’d be heads over heels. You’re so fucking smart, and passionate. And-and if they saw you smile for real, not a half-smile, your full smile with your teeth, the one that feels like a warm summer’s day. It’s their loss, they’ll never know how sweet you are, that after a bad game, you want steak and head scratches, that you’re sentimental as fuck- like you wear that Yankees hat because Quinn got it for you when you fell ill and couldn’t make the game. You’re not average.”

Luke blinked, once, twice and thrice as her eyes bored into his, glazed with fire as the words tumbled from her mouth and circled his head. He watched the way her body rose and fell as she caught her breath, the grip on his thigh tightening and heat rising through his body. He felt the sweat building on the back of his neck, his collar suddenly becoming too tight. She thought he was hot? She remembered such little details about him like they’d known each other since they were kids. The hand around her waist slid to her lower back, his thumb rubbing the fabric of her (his) hoodie unconsciously.

He smiled, his warm smile she mentioned, where his eyes wrinkled and his chin tilted up triumphantly, “The hottest guy you know, huh?”

Y/n’s face dropped. Never in her life had she experienced her heart stop the way it did hearing those words. She stared like a deer in headlights, she slipped up and the heat rushing to her cheeks burned. This is what happens when you let your feelings take over, you make a fool of yourself in front of the one person who would never want to. She sighed, hung her head and hid her face in her hands, the butterflies in her stomach choking her when Luke let out a saccharine chuckle that made all the flowers bloom.

Large, warm hands wrapped around her wrists with a feather touch, and slowly pulled her hands away from her face and into her lap, soothing her nerves with a gentle rubbing of her knuckles with his thumbs. Although his hands felt clammy, the tingling in his stomach became too addicting to care about it too much anymore.

“Don’t hide,” she was radiant under what was left of the tangerine hues, eyes almost sparkling, “let me see that pretty face.”

She hesitantly raised her head, eyes meeting his and her body relaxed. She had no idea why she was so embarrassed, he hadn’t gagged, laughed in her face nor had he physically repulsed. Instead, he looked at her like she’d hung out the stars for him, wide eyes with rose-tinted ears.

“I think you’re very pretty too. Beautiful even, I-“ he hesitated, “you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about kissing you, asking you out. Honestly, the idea of you rejecting me is terrifying so I never did, plus, I’ve never kissed anyone before, and I didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

Her eyes fluttered to his lips, the world around them falling silent until it was just them in their own bubble. Luke gulped, his eyeline following the way she flickered between his eyes and his mouth before he found their bodies leaning into one another, noses ghosting. His hands released her wrists, one arm snaking around her waist sending an electric tingle through her veins and holding her firmly close. They’d been this close before, sure. Multiple occasions of having his arms around the back of the sofa they sat snug on, arm hooked around her shoulders because some guy couldn’t get the memo at bars, in fact, the root cause of their problem was undeniably because everyone assumed they were together except them.

Y/n’s palm held his cheek tenderly, the hot, carnal desire to devour the boy only being released from its cage when he melted into her touch as if he was opening his doors to vulnerability.

“I can teach you if you like,” she whispered, her thumb tracing across his bottom lip. Luke’s fingers gripped her waist as if she couldn’t be any closer than she already was, but he couldn’t risk letting her slip from his grasp again. He wanted to erase all those other guys who’d kissed her, he would be the last guy on Earth to taste the lips that words and giggles laced with a honey-like sweetness that cradled his heart.

“God, please-“ his heart beat twice as fast, y/n leaning in, closing the gap between them and pressing her lips gently to his. If he were to die right there, he’d die the happiest man alive. Her lips were soft and warm, igniting every firework inside of him and adrenaline shaking him back to life. He could do this for hours, drinking in her citrus fragrance, lips mimicking the way she moved hers against his. If she was a match, he was kerosene and he’d let her set him ablaze over and over if it meant he could feel like the only man in the world until the end of time.

They pulled away, eyes fluttering open to an exchange of giggly smiles. Despite it being a closed-mouth kiss, nothing extra, just soft and sweet, Luke’s thoughts raced at a million miles per hour. All the weight on his shoulders lifted and he nuzzled into her palm, placing a kiss on it.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, his puppy-like gaze almost distracting her from how his skin burned pink in her palm. But in a way, all her previous anxieties dissipated like dust in the wind, tummy flipping at the pathetically sweet and lovestruck expression spread on Luke’s face, “Your face is so red. Are you okay?-”

“-Can we do that again?” He pleaded, quickly, desperately, a certain yearning feeling on his lips that he couldn’t quite describe, except that he needed to taste her again. He needed more, so much more to quench his thirst, a kind of fuzziness he felt in his core.

“Uh- yeah, let me show you what a real kiss is.” No hesitation was needed, y/n’s hand slid from his cheek to the nape of his neck, fingers carding through his curls as she roughly connected their lips again, messier, teeth chattering from the impact. Luke’s other hand found comfort on her thighs, pulling them over his lap and giving gentle squeezes, moaning when y/n bit his lower lip. He opened his mouth with ease, failing to hold back another moan when her tongue lapped his. He wasn’t sure how to react, he’d never made out with anyone and it’s not like his brothers would’ve explained it well either. So, he repeated her movement, his tongue dancing with hers with saliva lubricating their lips each time they dove back in to devour each other. Y/n tugged his curls lightly, pulling him closer, savouring the kindling arousal leaking into her panties with the way he craved her.

Luke pulled away to breathe, his chest heavy but shorts becoming tight with the intense and fiery eye contact that screamed nothing but lust, “You,” he kissed her again, fervently, “taste,” another kiss, “amazing.” He mumbled into her lips and their tongues stirred again, whimpers drawing from the back of her throat when his hand travelled further up her thigh, under her shorts and found solace on the skin only he could touch. Any further and she couldn’t promise she wouldn’t pounce, her underwear was soaked through and sticking to her folds and even one measly brush on her clit would open the floodgates.

A foreign burst of confidence washed over him, and he detached their lips, a string of saliva between them and her hand still tugging at his curls and whether intentional or not, he discovered something carnal clawing away inside him. Wetting his lips, he dove into her neck, planting wet kisses along her column and nipping in the hope of hearing her mewl again. Y/n tilted her head to the side, giving him free rein over her skin and her jaw slacking, whining his name with her thighs clenching together for any kind of friction. As he began to run his hand along her thigh, his pocket vibrated continuously, earning a growl to rumble from his throat.

“Fuck, why’d you stop?” y/n whined, hand falling from his hair to his chest. Luke pulled his phone from his pocket with a disgruntled look, of course, his moment was ruined. Swiping the notification away, he clicked his tongue, sliding his phone back into his shorts.

His arms wrapped around her waist, and looked back into her adoring yet disappointed eyes, “Dylan wants to know if we’re joining them for a movie.”

“I’m quite happy staying here with you.”

“Who says we have to watch the whole movie?”

Silence hung over the living room, only the TV blaring and the light crunching of popcorn from different directions. The lights were off, just the TV and three boys crammed on one sofa, and three plus y/n on the other. Luke, y/n, Rutger and Adam on the sectional directly opposite the TV, Luke occupying the end with the chaise for his legs, and y/n sat between them and huddled under a blanket. Rutger sat in the middle with Adam on the furthest end. Dylan, Luca and Ethan huddled together on the sofa adjacent to the TV, popcorn littered between them from missing mouths and flinching.

Luke’s hands wrapped around her waist, keeping her snug against his chest while she slowly chewed Haribo’s, feeding them to him now and then. While his heart skipped beats, feeling like a meadow of tulips blooming in the Spring, y/n’s wiggling against his crotch lured all the heat and butterflies from earlier straight back to his stomach, sending it into twists and turns. Heat flushed to his neck when she pushed her arse back into him, in an innocent attempt to readjust. A deep exhale through his nose and his hands slithered to her thighs, fingers kneading the flesh like dough as his head dipped into her shoulder, breath hot on the skin and making her hairs stand on edge.

“Stop wigglin’, pretty girl,” he whispered into the shell of her ear, placing a kiss, “you’re drivin’ me crazy.”

She froze, body falling limp into his as he ran his hands under her hoodie, his stiffened cock poking into her backside as she caught on to what his problem was. The sex-deprived whore in her awakened with a jolt, his cock solid because of her, and there was nothing she wanted more than to feel him pressed up against her, unable to find his release and have the rasp of his voice reverberate through her being as her vibrator.

“And if I don’t?” she whispered back, as close to him as possible without being heard. Instead of answering, Luke dipped his fingers down her shorts, middle finger brushing against her clothed clit. His eyes locked to the screen in front of him, resisting the urge to smirk when her breath hitched but continuing to glide his finger – in what was a lucky guess – over her bundle. She squirmed, clamping her thighs together, only to have them pried open by his free hand.

“Be a good girl and keep quiet, unless you want to be caught.” His playful tone sent chills down her spine, goosebumps swarming on her neck but melting into his touch. She plopped another sweet into her mouth, chewing intensely when Luke drew his long fingers away, only for her to feel them caress over her skin, cold on her warm body, and down her panties. To describe the sensation that zipped through her when the pad of his middle finger reunited with her clit would be the same shock if you were to be struck by lightning: sudden and sharp, rattling up the spine.

Y/n placed the bag of sweets in her lap, tucking both hands under the blanket with the hope of seeming less suspicious, but her hand skimmed down his arm and placed itself on his, slowly guiding his movements on her nub until he got the idea. Firm yet gentle circular movements, the slick seeping from her warm on his fingertips, so inviting he wished he could have a taste. She pulled the blanket to her chin, not only to cover Luke’s sudden mood but to form some form of distraction from the fuzzy feeling rising to her head. No, she’d never had this before, so the experience itself embraced her tight, addicting like nicotine.

He kissed her temple, two fingers sliding into her cunt almost perfectly, too perfect that another Haribo was abused between her teeth as her breathing struggled to remain neutral. The moan that would’ve slipped past if she hadn’t been concentrating would’ve been embarrassing enough. Luke began languid plunges into her, relishing in the way her walls squeezed his fingers tight, keeping shallow at first. The more her pussy swallowed him in their wetness, the faster his mind spiralled in greed and his pace sped up, y/n’s nails digging deep into his leg, leaving crescent shapes on the skin. The heat pooling in her stomach was riveting, knowing she would finally have an insane story to tell even more so. No one could say that Luke Hughes’ tongue tasted theirs like it was the best meal he’d ever lapped up and that he’d watched a movie with his friends while pushing the limits of both his and their sanity publicly.

With a rush of adrenaline and her nails marking him, he buried his fingers deep into her cunt, driving swiftly and curling in places that made her wriggle against him, his free hand having to hold her hips still with a bruising grip and his cock begged for attention in his shorts. Y/n popped two more sweets in her mouth, relying on their gummy nature to suppress the moans that threatened to tear through her as the knot inside her came dangerously close to snapping with the way he bullied her pussy with his bare hands. His breathing fell deep and shuddered, his heart infatuated with the ecstasy of finger-fucking the woman of his dreams in front of an entire room of his friends hammered in his chest while his face struggled to stay indifferent and jaw tight like his cock isn't throbbing violently and straining against her arse. Like she wasn’t bucking her hips into his touch like he couldn’t tell that her heart was going haywire because of just him alone. If this was what foreplay was like, the idea of piledriving balls deep in her until she couldn’t remember her name was divine.

He dragged out his last pumps, the knot in her stomach snapping and coating his fingers in hot, sticky release, kissing her temple upon her body physically shuddering. Y/n pulled the blanket up to her chin as if she had shivered naturally, stuffing her mouth into the fluffy material. Luke pulled his fingers out, wiping the residue on his shorts, practically drooling over the image of milking her dry. His arms snaked around her waist, snuggling close. Y/n sighed, slumping back into him. On the outside Luke was his collected and cool self, his breathing stable and attention on the movie, the heat in his face and hands that rested on her stomach, soothing her heart rate screamed that he was the happiest guy in the room. With every gentle stroke of his thumb on the flesh of her stomach, her heart soothed and her eyelids became increasingly heavier.

"Was that story worthy?" He whispered, kissing her cheek sweetly.

Luke’s pocket buzzed and he tutted, carefully sliding it from his pocket and unlocking it, trying his best to prevent the screen from blinding everyone.

Duker idk if ur freaky or brave u dog

Luke closed his phone and looked up towards Dylan, who sat with a shit-eating grin. He smiled and shook his head, mouthing a subtle, ‘this stays between us’.

[Masterlist]

[Requests CLOSED]

Banners & dividers belong to @/cafekitsune

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes smut #lh43 #nhl smut #nhl x reader #hockey smut #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fanfic #≡lh43

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atlabeth · 6 months ago

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family line

pt 2

pairing: spencer reid x gideon!reader

a/n: pardon the end where i just go into endless conversation for no reason but i cannot control myself. anyways thank you sosososo much for all the love on the last part and gideon!reader as a whole it makes me so happy!! enjoy some dad-daughter-spence car convos(arguing) and some elle time

wc: 3.8k

warning(s): the usual! r and gideon argue, gideon is not a good dad(but theres some reconciliation), angst, hurt/comfort, but some fluff between r and gideon & spence. more of a set-up chapter

The drive over to the safe house is a long one, and unfortunately, not a quiet one.

Spencer takes the back seat, leaving shotgun for you with your dad. He spends the entirety of the drive briefing you on what living in a safe house will entail, all the things you can and can’t do.

You can’t use your phone because it could be tracked. You can’t leave the place without Spencer because you are, in fact, being stalked. You’re not to reveal anything about your location to anyone—you’re basically shut off from the world until the unsub is behind bars.

And once he’s done briefing you, he basically starts interrogating you.

“Have you been contacted like this before in any way?”

You huff a laugh. “What, with creepy pictures of myself? No.”

“Anything unsettling,” he clarifies. “A text message, a call, an email— anything that rubbed you the wrong way that you might’ve just passed off as a joke or spam.”

“No,” you repeat.

“You’re sure?”

“How many times do I have to say no?” You pull your phone out of your pocket and stare at your dad. “Go through it if you want. You won’t find anything.”

He pauses, then he nods. “Reid.”

You shake your head with a slight laugh, then turn it over as Spencer extends a hand. He flips it open and starts to go through it, and you just cross your arms and stare out the windshield.

“We should really hand this over to Garcia,” he says. “She’ll be able to do a lot more than I can. I don’t really—”

“Like technology, I know,” your dad finished. “We will. Just trying to get all the leads we can upfront.”

You sigh, but you keep quiet. You guess you can’t really consider it an invasion of privacy when there’s a stalker after you.

“We typically talk to stalking victims for a while to figure out their lifestyle and possible suspects, as well as the type of stalker we’re dealing with,” Spencer says. “We don’t exactly have the time for that here.”

“This unsub has already been watching you for a month, maybe more,” your dad says. “He’s made his first move by reaching out to me—that means he wants us to know about him, wants you to know about him.” He glances over at you. “He wants to scare you. You’re not going to give him that satisfaction.”

“You’re jetting me off to a safehouse before you’ve even gotten the chance to look into any leads,” you say. “It looks like we’re pretty scared, Dad.”

“It’s preparation,” he says. “The unsub has made his first move—I’m not going to wait around for him to make another and compromise your safety.”

“This could also be a lot more dangerous than we think,” Spencer says. You still hear him clicking through your messages, and you’re beginning to regret your decision to turn it over to him. “Our unsub could be someone after Gideon using you as collateral.”

Your heart stops for a split second and your attention snaps to your father. “What?”

“…It is a likely option,” he says. “Very few people know you as my daughter. Someone who wants to hurt me could try to use you to do it.”

“So I was right,” you say. “This is only happening because I’m your daughter.”

“Do you want me to say yes?”

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Yes— I want you to admit that I’ve missed out on all the positives of you being my dad and gotten stuck with all the negatives!”

“This is not the time,” he says.

“How is it not the time?” you ask with a laugh. “You’ve said it yourself several times— my life is in danger. There’s someone out there that might kill me to get back at you. What is a better time than this to talk about how shitty of a dad you’ve been?”

“A better time would be when we aren’t this high strung,” he says evenly. “Neither of us are thinking as properly as we should be. We don’t want to say anything we’ll regret.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll regret any of this,” you say. “After all, I could be dead soon, right? I should get all those regrets out of the way.”

“Please stop arguing,” Spencer interrupts hastily. “This— this is very uncomfortable.”

You scoff. The flames burn just as bright, but for some reason, you decide to hold them back a bit.

“I’m sure it’s real hard for you, boy genius.”

The silence lingers. You can tell he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. Your dad, to his credit, doesn’t stoke the fire.

It looks like you’re all capable of restraint today.

“I— I went through all her messages,” Spencer continues. It irks you that he talks like you’re not here. “There’s nothing suspicious there, at least.”

“Good,” your dad says. “I’ll hand it over to Garcia after I drop you both off.”

“We’re not gonna have a car?” you ask.

“You’ll have this one,” he says. “That’s why Agent Greenaway is following us.”

“Elle’s coming?” Spencer asks, and you see him perk up. You belatedly wonder what that deal is.

“Just so she can drive me back to the office,” your dad says. “She offered.”

“What’s everyone else doing?”

“Garcia is digging through some of your personal records for the team,” he says, glancing at you. “JJ is in contact with the local police stations so they’re ready once we have a profile. Morgan and Hotch should be looking through every case I’ve closed to get a running list of suspects.”

“Great,” you say as you lean back in your seat. “Nothing like getting my whole life aired out and put under a microscope.”

“It already is,” Spencer says. “You’ve got a stalker.”

“Thanks, Spencer,” you mutter. “I forgot.”

The rest of the drive goes by with ease—at least, relative to how difficult you’ve made everything else.

You’re already sick of Spencer Reid by the time you get out of the car. You don’t know how you’re going to survive such close quarters under these kinds of circumstances.

Another car parks next to you as the three of you get out, and your eyes are drawn to the woman that steps out.

“Easy drive?” your dad asks.

“I was right behind you,” Agent Greenaway says. “You drive like an old man.”

Your dad just barely smiles. “Stay with her, Elle. Reid and I are going to check the perimeter.”

“You can’t be serious,” you cut in.

“I already told you I’m not taking chances with this,” he says, and he takes his gun out. “This won’t take long.”

Spencer takes his out as well—he carries it with both hands, like it’s actually weighing him down, and it’s a bit ridiculous—and they split to cover both sides of the house and the surrounding area. You sigh and shake your head as you cross your arms.

“He’s certainly spirited,” Agent Greenaway says.

You huff a laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I’m Elle, by the way,” she says. “I know we haven’t been formally introduced.”

You nod your acknowledgment and say your name. “Nice to meet you.”

She turns to fully face you. “Do you mind if I say a few things?”

“If it’s about my dad—”

“It’s not,” she interrupts with a wry smile, “I promise.”

You shrug. “Then sure.”

“First, I just want to ask if you’re doing alright,” she says. “You’ve gotten a lot dropped on you all at once.”

“I’m as good as I can be,” you say.

Elle nods, and her eyes soften. “I’m not gonna tell you to take it easy on Gideon. He’s an incredible agent, but that makes it hard to be a good dad.”

You don’t say anything, and she continues.

“My dad was on the force too. I resented him for a lot of my childhood because he was gone so often, but… then he was killed in the line of duty.”

You frown. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Elle nods in thanks. “I’m not trying to get sympathy. I’m just saying I know what it’s like.”

You shift your balance and sigh, glancing away momentarily. “Everyone here sees him as a hero, and— and he is. He started this whole thing and you all save lives every day, but it feels like he’s missed my entire life because of it.” You huff a bitter laugh. “I think you all know him better than I do.”

“I think you’re probably right,” she admits. “You deserve to be angry. And honestly, I think you deserve to hate him some for it.”

You huff a slight laugh. “You’re the one person who hasn’t tried to make me feel bad for it.”

She shrugs. “You’re in an awful situation and it might be because of him. You don’t have to have endless grace.”

“Any chance I can get you to stay in here with me instead of Spencer?” you ask.

She smiles. “I don’t think Gideon wants to stick the two of us in a house together. But I am gonna make sure we catch this guy.”

“These kinds of assholes go after vulnerable women because it gives them the attention they crave,” she continues. “They worm themselves into their lives and disrupt it all and it makes them feel powerful—you have to play to their whims.”

“Sounds like you have a lot of experience with this,” you murmur.

“I have a lot of experience putting away sick men,” Elle says.

“Do you have any advice, then?” you ask weakly.

“I’ve only been around you for a few hours, but I already know you’re better and stronger than whatever bastard is after you,” she says. “He wants to control your life. Don’t let him.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “I’m… really glad you’re on my side.”

She smiles again. “Just doing my job.”

Your eyes latch onto your dad as he and Spencer come back around the front, and they both tuck their guns back into their holsters.

“It’s all clear,” your dad says.

“And I’m not dead,” you say. “Looks like we’re all doing good.”

He chooses to ignore you, instead looking at Elle. “Did you go over anything with her?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “Just gave some advice.”

“Great,” Spencer says. “Just what I need.”

“Oh, get over yourself, Reid,” Elle says. “You’ll be fine.”

You don’t miss the look he gives her, and your dad clears his throat. “Can you take her inside and check everything? Reid and I need to talk.”

He frowns. “We do?”

“Sure,” she nods.

You stare at your dad this time, and he doesn’t entertain your annoyance with some of his own. “We’ll be in soon.”

“Sure,” you repeat.

You follow Elle in—you don’t feel like getting a lecture on safety just yet—and when you pass a glance over your shoulder, you meet Spencer’s eyes. He was watching you.

His eyes dart away just as quickly, and you huff the slightest laugh. You don’t know if he’s scared of you or just tired of you already, but whichever one, you don’t really care. If you have to be stuck in this house with him, he has to be stuck in there with you too.

Elle shows you around the place, and it’s nothing special—a one story house with two bedrooms and a noticeable lack of windows, furnished plainly with a couch and a few chairs, a small kitchen table, a television. You’re honestly surprised at how nice it all is.

But as she takes you on the impromptu tour, you can’t stop thinking about her words. You can’t stop thinking about all of it, honestly.

A month ago, you were driving home in silence after your dad forgot about the plans you made. A week ago, you were out for drinks with friends.

Today, you’re hunkering down in a safe house because there’s a stalker after you, and you have to do it with your dad’s stand-in kid.

That’s what gets you, you think. That you know more about Spencer Reid than anyone at his job knows about you—that your dad ignores you in favor of his work, and instead of trying to fit you into his life, he finds an FBI replacement.

Your jaw clenches. It takes a few seconds for you to realize you’ve completely tuned out Elle, only really coming out of it when she says your name.

“Sorry,” you say. “I was distracted.”

“I don’t blame you,” she says wryly.

You’re about to respond when Spencer walks in with your dad. His face is slightly flushed and, as opposed to all the other times, he won’t make eye contact with you. You can only imagine what your dad decided to talk to him about.

“You showed her around?” your dad asks.

Elle nods. “The basics. She and Reid can figure out the rest.”

“Thank you,” he says. He looks at Spencer, who has his hands stuffed in his pockets and is very intently focused on the wall behind you. “Help Elle get the rest of the things out of her car.”

He frowns. “Elle doesn’t need my help.”

“Come on, Reid,” she says as she starts to walk.

He blinks and nods. “Oh. Uh— yeah.”

You feel his eyes on you as he goes, but you don’t meet them. You just stare at your father.

“Is it my turn for a lecture?”

His eyes soften as he says your name. “This isn’t how I want things to be between us.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, “it takes a decade or two of neglect to get here.”

“You’re right,” he says. “You wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for me. But I’m going to get you out of it.”

“I hope so,” you say. “Because I don’t really know how Doctor Reid is going to help.”

“Don’t take it out on Reid,” your dad says. “Hate me all you want, but leave him out of it.”

“You’re the one that pulled him into it,” you retort. “He’s more your kid than I am.”

“And I regret it,” he says. Your eyes widen a bit, and it actually gets you to shut up. “I regret that it took something like this for me to be a part of your life again. But I don’t want our last interaction before you’re sequestered for the indefinite future to be a fight.”

“That’s all I’m good at when it comes to you,” you mumble. The wind has been taken out of your sails considerably.

“And I want to change that,” he says. “But first, we have to get through this. And we’re going to get through it together, sweetheart.”

The term of affection feels strange coming from him. Ever since your teenage years, he’s felt less like your dad and more like some estranged cousin. You hate it. You hate how unfamiliar everything feels with him. Jason Gideon has been a profiler longer than he’s been a dad and it shows in your every interaction with him.

But still, your heart aches. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“You promise?” you ask. You feel like a kid again.

“I promise,” he says.

Then your dad pulls you into a hug, and for a moment, you freeze. You can’t remember the last time he hugged you.

Despite the anger inside of you, the bitterness built in your bones, you can’t help it—you hug him back. You practically melt into his arms as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to stop the sudden threat of tears.

Because deep down beneath it all, you’re scared. You’re fucking terrified, actually, and right now you’re just a girl who wants comfort from her dad.

“I love you,” he says.

“…I love you too,” you mumble.

Neither of you pull away for a good thirty seconds. When you do, you turn around to wipe your eyes, not wanting him to see. You hear the door open and start, but it’s just Spencer and Elle with some bags and boxes.

“Elle’s got some groceries,” your dad says, clearing his throat. “We’ll deliver more if necessary, but you’ve got the basics for a couple weeks, at least.”

“And a whole lot of books and movies,” Spencer says, hefting the box in his hands. “Did you know that there have been approximately 122 million unique titles published since the invention of Gutenberg’s printing press in 1440?”

“That’s less specific than usual,” Elle says. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”

He frowns. “I couldn’t find statistics on the exact number.”

“Why were you even looking at those statistics?”

“I get bored sometimes.”

Elle just laughs as they continue into the living room. You feel your dad’s eyes on you, and you sigh.

“I’ll take it easy on him,” you say. “Mostly. Maybe.”

And he actually smiles. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say offhandedly, but you find the slightest smile creeping on your lips as well. You kind of hate it.

Everything else goes by relatively quickly now that you’re not arguing every single thing—you have to fight your instincts not to, but you manage—and eventually, after another lingering hug and some promises to be safe (and one from Spencer to your dad to keep you safe)—you’re alone in the house with him.

“So,” you say as you settle on the couch, “this is what the indefinite future is going to be like.”

“If it makes you feel better, last time we dealt with a stalker we caught them in a few days,” Spencer says. “She watched her for a good while, though.”

“It doesn’t make me feel better,” you say. “Thanks.”

“...Sorry.”

You shrug your indifference and Spencer walks past you, focusing in on some of the paintings hanging on the wall. You’re sure he knows the artist, title, and meaning behind every single one, so you speak up before he can start.

“What did you and Elle talk about?”

“How this place doesn’t have a pool,” he says.

You frown. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly. “What’d you and Gideon talk about?”

“We fought then made up,” you say. “It was… weird.”

Spencer looks at you. “How?”

You shrug again as you cross your arms. “You’ve seen how we are. We don’t exactly get along.”

“Has he really been that bad of a dad?”

“It’s none of your business,” you say. “But… yes. He’s barely been a dad at all.”

Spencer shakes his head. “I don’t get that. He’s so different in the field.”

“That’s why he’s barely been a dad—because he’s so busy here.” You tilt your head. “Don’t you have some facts or whatever on the percentage of fathers that are workaholics?”

“Well, 89% of dads work full time,” Spencer says. “And fathers typically work around 47 hours a week. But I don’t have anything on workaholics specifically.”

“Great.” You stand up and walk over to the box of DVDs Spencer set down on the table, and you start rifling through them. “So, what’d my dad tell you about me?”

Spencer blinks. “What do you mean?”

“When I came in here with Elle and he kept you out there,” you say. “Did he give you the run-down? Warn you on how difficult I am to be around? Tell you that I hate you?”

His Adam’s apple bobs. “Uh— no. He just… talked to me. Gave the rundown on everything.”

You hum. “You can tell the truth.”

“I— I am,” he says. He’s clearly not. “He didn’t say anything bad about you. Promise.”

“Whatever you say.” You land on a DVD and glance over at him. “How do you feel about Groundhog Day?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t like Bill Murray.”

You frown. “That’s ridiculous. How can you not like Ghostbusters?”

“I love Ghostbusters.”

“How can you like Ghostbusters but not Bill Murray?”

“Because I like the concept more than I like him,” he says. “I love Halloween.”

You shake your head and move on. “Who put these together?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Gideon? Or maybe some random BAU office worker.”

“It’s an interesting compilation.” You look up at him again. “How about Dirty Dancing?”

“No.”

“No reasoning?”

“I don’t feel like dealing with a musical right now,” he says.

“So you choose to deprive me of Patrick Swayze,” you tut. You grab one movie out of the back and hold it up. “If I put on Goodfellas, will you interrupt every five seconds with facts?”

“...I can push it back to every thirty seconds,” he says.

“Five minutes,” you say.

“One minute.”

“Two.”

“One forty-five?”

“Two—take it or leave it.”

“Technically I have all the power here,” Spencer says. “I can talk nonstop about anything. Putting down a movie narrows that down.”

“...One fifty.”

He nods, and you huff a disbelieving laugh as you put the DVD in the player.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re ridiculous?”

“A lot,” he says as he sits down on the couch. “I usually get insufferable or weird or annoying, though. So ridiculous isn’t too bad.”

“Well, you’re certainly something.”

“That’s also not too bad,” he says. “I could even take it as a compliment.”

You sigh and pick up the remote before you sit back down. You look up at the clock on the wall and bite back a curse.

“It’s only been ten minutes,” you mutter.

“Ten minutes and thirty-four seconds, actually,” Spencer says. “Did you know that Scorsese actually cast real mobsters as extras? The cast members were told ahead of time so they could show the necessary respect to them while they were on set. There’s a whole mafia hierarchy, and only full-blooded Italians—”

“I haven’t even gotten to the start screen,” you interrupt in disbelief.

Spencer shrugs. “You said every minute and fifty seconds. Not how long I could go on for.”

You let out another sigh as he continues on. You bet Spencer could probably recite the whole movie from memory if you asked, but you honestly don’t know if you could take that.

There’s one plus, at least. When you’ve got a human encyclopedia next to you that can spout off whatever information he wants any time he wants, you think you’re gonna have a hard time thinking too much about your stalker.

You look over at Spencer when you finally make it to the opening scene, still talking but now about the different crime families in the United States. His eyebrows are surprisingly animated when he talks, going up and down depending on his inflection, and you find yourself thinking that it’s charming.

It’s annoying how pretty he is, and it’s annoying how annoying he is.

You look away.

This is going to be a very long lockdown.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #x reader #sadie writes

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leoascendente · 11 months ago

Text

PAC/ Your destined person 💘

Hi loves and welcome to this new PAC! I'll be taking a time from this blog to focus on another projects, it doesn't mean that this blog will be unactive, it is just that I won't post that much pacs or astrology, I'll be more focused in my Spanish blog for a while. Anyway, private readings will still be open and from time to time I'll post something over here because Tumblr is and always will be my safe place.

Take a deep breath before choosig your pile and pick the picture you feel called the most, because this is a general reading it doesn't have to fully resonate, keep what does and leave what doesn't for somebody else, you can always choose another pile :)

For private readings click here

My blog in Spanish here

Decks: Romantic tarot, dark wood tarot, tea leafs oracle, romance angels oracle, love oracle cards

All pics are from pinterest, credits to their owners

Pile 1/ Pile 2

Pile 3/ Pile 4

Pile 1:

Who is your destined person?:

(Cards: 6 of swords, 3 of pentacles, 6 of pentacles, moon, hermit, queen of wands, king of swords/ hermit rev, death, wheel of fortune, 5 of pentacles, sun)

This person probably comes from a very different backgroud than you, it will seem like you don't have much in common at first, they have probably moved from the place they were born and are getting used to the new place. They are a hard worker, right now they are putting a lot of effort in this area of their life, probably to help financially their beloved ones, I'm hearing to help their parents, they are so focused in making money that they are not nurturing other aspects of their life like socializing, the good thing is that they don't seem to care about it. They got the hermit with two different decks, once upright and another time on reversed, it gives me the feeling that they feel very comfortable in their solitude but at the same time they are craving significative connections and a reason to get out of their isolation, for some reason they feel very exhausted but they can't sleep at night, they are like an owl, by night they seem to be more active even though they should be super tired because their work is exhausting (I'm writting this at 13:31 on my clock, maybe it's a relevant number for you or this connection). This person has some emotional issues that keeps them up at night, it's like they need these few extra hours of the day that they are taking from their resting time to relax when the rest of the world is quiet, maybe it's because they are far from home or because they miss their family, because this is related to their emotional world but for what I see here they are thinking too much about others and not about themselves and their mental peace. Anyway, this person is really attractive, for what I see in the cards, they have some not-so-secret admirers that are chasing them or looking desperately for their attention, whatever they are trying is not working with your person, your person seems to be an introvert or at least, they need to feel emotionally connected to something or someone to invest their energy fully on it, I could even say that they are a little shy when it comes to interact with other people. this person has an strong masculine energy, also I keep hearing the word resilient so this may be the most noticable trait about them, the thing here with the admirers is that they are chasing your person, like taking the masculine role but only for their outside appearance, your person seems to need something more to connect with someone and they prefer to court that to be courted. Right now they are closing chapters, there's a massive divine intervention in their life even if they are not aware of this, this is happening for their highest good because they need to get out of this hermit mode and start experiencing good things. They seem to be a little apathic and their lack of rest could be affecting their health too, even if they want it or not, a change is coming to align them, there will be a shift in their luck very soon, especially to help them financially because they seem to be struggling in this aspect. your person is really calmed and peaceful, very goal oriented and commited to what's important to them, you'll love the kind of person they are and the peace they'll bring to your life.

Your connection:

(Cards: deception, new love, this could be the one, playfulness/ girl with a snake, heartbroken, the phoenix, heart with a key, wedding rings)

Okay, your person had a very tough relationship with a toxic person that played with their heart and left them in the dust, this might be one of the reasons why they are avoiding so much human contact, especially with romantic interests, their heart is still recovering from this heartbreak. When you appear in their life, everything will trasform, it will be so magical and unexpected that they won't know what to do, you'll catch them off guard, everything will feel different with you, it's like they've been in a grey and clouded place and you appear to make the sun shine again in their life. This past relationship marked them but knowing you will make them realize that not everyone is the same, you will make them gain hope in love again, it will happen naturally and your relationship will be blossoming peacefully but with certainty, from the first moments they'll know that you are meant for them and will work to make you know it. This is a soulmate connection so you'll feel very comfortable with eachother like you know the other from a very long time, I see a lot of funny dates together, like an exhibition of some kind (I'm translating directly from google but I mean those places wih a ferris wheel, bumper cars, cotton candy and those places where you get a teddy bear if you drop all the bottle from the shelf, something that sort, please comment me the correct name of this lol). An important thing I see here is that your person might be shy at first and will try to make things the right way, not forcing anything, but what I like the most is that even though they have their heart wounded, they won't pay this pain with you, in fact, you'll be a reason to stop thinking about the past pain and focusing on the precious future you could share together, you'll ignite them faith in life, they'll find motivation again, they might even realize that they weren't as comfortable in their solitude as they wanted to project. I see a fast commitment, I also see that they will leave you the key of their home so you can stay there even when they are working, they'll try to make you part of their day to day life and will be very honest with your from the start, you can ask them anything and they will respond with all the truth, even if the truth doesn't leave them in good place, they want you to know every detail about them, you can also trust in them to share whatever you want, they will be super understanding and compassionate.

Signals:

(Tea leafs: sunrise, woman, feather, bull, desk, scissors, caterpillar)

By the moment you are about to meet your person, you'll be finding out the true intentions of a woman in your life, I don't know why but the energy of this woman gives me really bad vibe, like a two faced person, is someone that you should put distance with in order to protect your energy because in terms of love she could often have bad experiences and she will not be happy for you when you find your soulmate. There also this message of not sharing your ideas about the future, not just in love but about your goals or plans in work too, if you are thinking about initiate something by your own just keep it private for a while, or at least just share it with your closest ones because this woman or femenine energy around you don't what you to thrive. The good thing is that you got the card of the sunrise, so you'll be having a lot of new ideas that will lead you to find success, I'd suggest you to write down those ideas,take time to organize them and start implementing them in aries season, at the beggining of the spring, energies will be at your favor. For your person they'll be working really hard, there might be a chance for a rise or getting a higher position in their work field and they'll be focused into that, for others of you there might also be the chance that your person will be getting another job with a better salary, I'm getting especially this second option because your person seems to be very unhappy in their current job and they need better conditions, it also seems like there is some opposition from someone in their work and your person has to keep themselves in a defensive position to deal with it and they don't want this no more, they know they deserve a healthier work enviroment, maybe there's an abusive boss here. There's the possibility that you are really close to meet eachother because of the cards on tarot and this message so be aware of your surroundings because your person is closer than you imagine :)

Channeled messages: a puppy, sexy but don't know it, romantic dates, strong arms, meet them in a public place like a park, a market or a place with art or literature involved like museums or book stores, gift giving, a soft pink or white dress, night dates, overthinking, financial struggle, 999, 1333, virgo, scorpio, cancer and leo, might be seasons for you two meet or your person's sign.

Pile 2:

Who is your destined person?

(Cards: 9 of wands, 4 of swords, 7 of pentacles, 10 of pentacles, justice, death, world/ devil, justice, queen of pentacles, judgement, king of wands)

Okay, lets start saying that you know this person but never had anything romantic with them besides a crush for some of you, they are someone that is familiar to you, maybe you have talked at some point or is simplier than that and you follow them on social media or something that sort, you know eachother but there's almost any interaction between you two. I usually say on private readings when I see that the consultant know their person that Universe has a wicked sense of humor and sometimes, this person can be so random as your crush on primary school, someone you talked once in a party, a friend of a friend and those kind of things, so don't be dissapointed when you see that you know your person because many times, even though you know them, they can be the most random person you could ever imagine. Right now your person is going through some legal issues, it can be a divorce for some of you but for others it might be more related to an spiritual awakening where they are taking resposibility over things they have done in the past, like paying some karma and realizing why they are paying it. The good thing is that your person is closing a chapter, this awakening can be hard, because of the devil card, but it also will bring them a big relief and a change in their reality for the best, there's also a change in their way to face life. For what I see in the cards, your person is wealthy or well positioned in life, probably has a high position in their work field, for some they can work in something related to laws but is an enviroment with a lot of competition and stabs in the back, you have to be a little ruthless to thrive in that area, there's also a chance that they already have a child or kids near them, if you have children, your person will get along very well with your kid too. Your person has an strong temper, the good part of it is that they are very protective of what they love and don't mind getting into trouble if that means keeping their beloved ones safe. The not so good part is that they can be too impulsive and irrational when angry, their passionate spirit can take the best from them sometimes, they will be your total opposite so if you have a natural calmed and peaceful temper this pile is for you. Your person is someone brave, a natural extrovert with a lot of charisma, they can draw all the attention of a room to them just with an smile, they are also very sexy, physically they are extremely attractive, they could also be a Libra or Sagittarius sun sign. Your person hasn't been an angel in their past, even though they are a nice person with a good heart, it seems like they did ot take the best decitions in their past and now they are regreting some mistakes. They are really handsome and charming, I see they haven't faced rejection in their past and that has led them to be too confident, they are the kind of person who always gets what they want, do you know Dexter from the show One Day? your person reminds me of him in the good and the bad traits. Anyway, they recently had an experience that made them realize the path they were taking and they want a diferent direction, they don't feel fulfilled and knows that can get something better for themselves, they are also facing the consequences of their actions si they might need some extra time to get into your life.

Your connection:

(Cards: this could be the one, trust, children, worth waiting for/ talking, golden mirror, sword and rose, self indulgence, love call)

You'll share a very special bond, I see trust issues from both of you but at the moment you start something together those issues will fade, it's like your souls will recognize that you both are meant for eachother, feelings will bloom naturally. I see different scenarios for your pile so take what resonates with you, for the people who already know who this person is, the cards invite you to keep hopeful but patient, just trust the Universe and focus on your bussiness meanwhile your person puts their life in order and solve the issues they are currently dealing with, you deserve to enjoy their best version. For others of you who can't figure out yet who your person is, the cards have a similar meaning, to stay optimistic visualizing your ideal relationship, you'll have to wait a little more than the other piles because your person is dealing with issues they need to resolve before meeting you, again, you deserve to enjoy their best version, your vibration is very high so having your person right now in your life with their current circumstances could affect negatively your energy, so this wait is a divine protection for you. Things will start by flirting between both of you, maybe some casual dates at first but for what see in the cards, there's a lot of communication here and it makes sense because through communication trust gets reinforced and that's what you both need. You both will be very different but will have so much in common, your experiences in life or even your tastes or hobbies, your favorite artist or the kind of music you like, it will start by something simple but then you'll realize how similar you truly are, you will mirror eachother in every aspect, for some with an spiritual development I see this person is your twin flame. A nice thing a like about your person is that they will allow you to stay in your femenine energy, the card of self indulgence gives me the feeling that they'll provide for the things you like, just as an example, if you are into a saga of books but you don't have enough money to afford everyone of them so you go buy it one by one, your person will buy you all the saga so you can enjoy your hobbies. For some of you I even see that your person pays for your beauty treatments like getting your lashes or nails done. I see that they'll like to take a protective role with you, if you are easilly stressed, especially in regards of legal matters or burocracy, your person will take care of it so you don't have to worry, if you have any dream or goal you want to achieve your person will also provide you a safe space so you can develop it, especially for those of you who are into arts or something that involves creativity

Signals:

(Tea leafs: teapot, mule, wreath, shield, stork, wedge, heart)

Your signs to know when your person is about to enter your life will be a dissapointment with a friendship of your same sex, you might have an idea of who this person is because you have been seeing red flags from them in the past but you have turned a blind eye with them, especially in terms of stubborness and not wanting to change their habits. I'm getting that they are the kind to mourn and complain over things that they could easilly change, even you could have given them advices in the past but this person is unwilling to change for the better so you'll have to take them out of your life before your person comes. The tea leafs say that this won't be easy for you because you love and appreciate this person but by having them in your life you have to stay in a protective state, the shield warns you that you need to protect yourself from this person because they are consuming your energies. For your person, they'll be in a process of creating something new, I'm getting that it will be related to work, they'll be moving in silence because there's someone near them that don't want your person to be successful in this new project, anyway the project will thrive regardless of what other people try to mess with it. Your person will be just about to get their victory when they get in a deeper contact with you, they'll feel like things are getting better for them after everything they had to go through, you'll be like their ultimate victory. They'll know it's you because they'll feel safe by your side, having in mind that they are surrounded by snakes, getting in contact with you will feel for them like being in precence of angels.

Channeled messages: protect yourself from evil eye, black turmaline, long term relationship, karmic debts, late night conversations, a lot of sexual energy, love letters, release the old so the new can enter, the goddess Kali, law of attraction, subliminal audios, stay in your femenine energy, the bee and the flower, trust the process, 1111, 222, sagittarius, libra, scorpio

Pile 3:

Who is your destined person?

(Cards: queen of cups, king of pentacles, queen of pentacles, 3 of wands, fool, king of cups, 10 of pentacles/ ace of wands, 8 of pentacles rev, 5 of swords rev, judgement, emperor)

This person is your soulmate/twin flame, they are your divine counterpart so you will notice it from the very first moment you meet them. Getting into who your person is, they come from a wealthy background, their family seem to be very rich to say the least, they have been a pampered child all their life, in fact, if they work is because they want to not because they need to. Your person has been raised by parents that are soulmates so they know what true love is and knows that they want that type of connection for them too, they are a romantic and are not afraid to express it, they are also very well mannered so expect them to be chilvalrous with you, they are a true gentleman. They are so open to love that is overwhelming, they fantazise an daydream a lot about you, how you look, your way to walk and your smell, they have you so much in their head but they feel frustration not knowing who you are and when you will appear, they look for you everywhere they go and in every person they meet, yu cold even feel their energy calling you, if you have romantic dreams with someone but you can see their face clearly it is your person calling you in, you can intuitively feel them, I'm also getting that if you are able to see the face of someone familiar to you in dreams like a famous person just check that person you dream about because they might reselble the characteristics of your person. They have a melancholic soul, like a poet from another century, they are very deep and emotional, they have so much love inside they want to offer but they feel frustrated because they don't find the right person to share it with, they don't want only to share love they want someone to share all their life with, they feel like they already have it all to live a happy life but there's this missing peace of wanting to share all their abundance with someone else. There's this phrase of the movie 'into the wild' (my favourite movie ever <3) that says 'happiness is only real when it's shared', I feel that your person resonates a lot with this phrase, they have people they love around but they crave a romantic connection to create a family with, btw, they are really into marriage and family, they also like children and animals and they love your person too. Your person has a sensitive heart and the pain of their solitude has led them to get involved with people with superficial intentions or toxic behaviors, mostly because of your person's money, they had a relationship in the past that left them feeling empty and that's why now they are giving themselves time to be alone and with their family, I see they have siblings that are playing a major role into your person's emotional healing. Idk if you'll know about this book, it's called fallen hearts by V.C Andrews, it is part of the Casteel saga but the character that reminds me of your person appears on the second book, his name is Troy Tatterton, I suggest you to read it or let me know if you already know them :). I also see that your person has traveled a lot, for some of you, you could even live at distanced places where you'd had to travel to see eachother, it may be in one of your person's journeys where they finally meet you.

The connection:

(Cards: true love, getting to know eachother, playfulness, wedding/ casette, hammer, camera, separation, twin flames)

Oh goddess, this is so beautiful it makes me want to cry! If it was up to your person they would marry you as soon as they meet you, after all their painful journey, when you appear in their life they'll feel like the skies will open up only for them, they'll know it's you and will court you from the very first moment, they will be flirty but charming at the same time, I see you'll feel the same too. Even though that feelings will be intense at first, you both will make the effort to get to know eachother on deeper levels to check your chemistry and compatibility, everything will feel light and easy, you'll get along super well, they'll make you feel like you are in a safe place, if you are naturally introverted they'll make you feel protected and, in case you are an hyper independent person, you'll feel like you can finally relax and release some of the weight over your shoulders. At some point you'll have distance between you two but it won't separate you, I see you will make the best of every moment you spend together and, after a little time your person will offer you a seious commitment so you can start your life together as a couple, it might also be a soon engagement. I see that you'll be watching the pictures and videos you make together, especially if decide to travel, I see a fancy cabin near a forest where you are staying together to spend some alone time with nobody else there to bother you. The time you spend separated will play a major role for you two to decide that you want to be together forever, I see that your person will have a harder time being away from you, that's why they won't hesitate at the moment of offering you commitment, probably they give you a promise ring or tell you to get married, it will happen sooner than usual but both of you will feel certain about this relationship and what you want from it, you'll fit like puzle pieces and you'll both will understand why things didn't work with anybody else in the past.

Signals:

(Tea leafs: gong, key, shark, caterpillar, dagger, camel, unicorn, carriage)

For you, you'll be receiving good news about something you have done, it will be something exciting for you, a successful outcome for something you put a lot of effort in, you could even celebrate it with your close ones because this will make you very happy. There's a little warning for you about being responsible with your money but also I see you could loose something important like a jewel or something with big material value like a phone or something that sort, so if you suddently loose soemthing important take it as a sign that your person is about to enter your life. For your person I'd confirm what I said before about the trip, the carriage means a journey either be a mental or physical but I feel that it's a trip for vacation. This journey is because they have been through a period of worries and stress, they just have solved a problem before making this trip, this solution will involve some changes in their life that will align them with their highest good so, overcoming this obstacle will finally lead them to you, their most desired wish. They'll be taking a time to release all the tension they've been holding, it is surely oon holidays so check the calendar just in case, they'll be with more people in this journey, probably their siblings, your meeting will be something spontaneous, neither of you will be expetiing it

Channeled messages: Water sign, earth moon sign, family money, colors red and green, divine counterparts, white doves and sunflowers, many options in love, send you romantic phrases or pictures that reminds them of you, settle down, a midset change, aries season, 777, 1818

Pile 4:

Who is your destined person?:

(Cards: knight of wands, 10 of cups, moon, queen of pentacles, 8 of pentacles, knight of swords/ 7 of cups rev, 9 of swords, queen of pentacles, fool, empress)

Your person got the queen of pentacles repeated with two different tarot decks, this gives me the feeling that they feel plenty with the current direction of their life, with the 10 of cups I'd confirm that they feel happy and fulfilled and everything is working out for your person. Besides that luck is on their side naturally, your person has fought to be in the place they are right now, they are following their passion and vocation and being loyal to their heart has lead them to success and recognition, they are also very optimistic and knows how to see the good side of things at every situation. Your person reminds me of Eli from Boy swallows universe (please watch the show, it's awesome and you'll love Eli), your person is brave, independent and resourceful, even daring sometimes, they are loyal to their truth and their heart, in fact I see they can be a little obsessed with finding out the truth of things so they could even be into conspiracy theories or things that sort. Your person is a wanderer, a curious soul but with a grounded spirit, they can be wild sometimes but they know their own limits and knows when to stop, they are really down to earth and mature on the important matters but very lighthearted and spontaneus when the ocassion requires it. They have been through seriouus things in the past, they may have some unresolved heavy trauma they didn't gave themselves the chance to solve it so they might act reckless sometimes, but the good thing is that they have an strong moral compass and value system they keep loyal at every moment, betray their values would feel like betraying themselves and that's something they don't want to go through. Your person can be an unintentional heartbreaker, they don't want to hurt anybody's feelings but it's easy for people to catch feelings for your person, is something about their aura or their energy, they are so warm and gentle that everybody feels drawn to them and can't help but develop feelings for them, they are easy to be loved. Your person is really smart, they could be air dominant in their chart because they also seem like having a talent with words or being a great communicator, they are also very funny so expect to laugh a lot with them, they might be younger than you or it's simply that they have a youthful energy, whatever it is they have this childlike energy that makes them lovely. Your person has this golden retirever energy that everyone likes, they are also very friendly and seems to have it easy to create friendships with other people, their sense of humor is a plus on this aspect too, they are a sweetheart with a loving heart but they are also very hard working and commited to what they think is right, you'll feel super comfortable by their side, even though they could be younger they will give off very mature and reliable energy.

The connection:

(Cards: Keep an open mind, retreat, flirt, love yourself first, chemistry/ the sword and rose, girl talk, cupid's arrow, sunglasses, engagement ring)

Okay, at first they might not be your usual type or the kind of person you would be interested in, for some, your person could be younger than you and that could be a turn off for you. Your connection will bloom progressively by creating a friendship first, besides the fact that your person will be very into you from the very first moment, they'll prefer to respect your times and show you they are worthy of your love, they will feel like they are out of your league for some reason. You might run from them at a certain moment because you get confused with your emotions, especially for those of you reading this that are a water moon, you'll need some time to reflect on your emotions and realize that there's an inmense chemistry between you two, maybe this distance you take serves you as a reassurance of how drawn you feel to this person, they'll have a bad time with this retreat but for you will be very healing and enlightning. I see that there's a female or dominant femenine energy in your life you trust so much, that person is very reliable and wise, don't doubt to ask them for advice because she will bring you clarity about the situation, I'm glad to say that you have an amazing support system, count on that female friend when you need mental clarity because she will be very honest, for some of you this person could be a sister. During this separation you might think that your person is focused into their bussiness but they'll be into stalker mode (positively, of course), checking up on you, they might even ask someone close to you how you are doing just to know about you, they'll also be checking your social media to know about you, they won't do it in a creepy way, they'll feel the same pull to you but they have a harder time trying to contain their emotions, the good thing is that you seem to be very intuitive so you'll know when their energy is trying to approach you. They'll be so in love with you, it feels like they fell first but you'll fall harder after a while, you both are soulmates so, even though you'll try to fight your feelings, you can't help but fall for this person, and after you see how much they are willing to offer and their true esence you'll fall for them (I'm writting this at 15:15 on my clock in case it's a relevant number for you). They'll wear their heart on their sleeve, they'll be very protective of you and won't allow any disrispect to you, they can be cutthroating if anybody tries to mess with you, tey'll feel so honnoured by you focusing on them that they will try to make you the happiest person ever everyday of your life, they can't believe their luck by finding a person like you and receiving love from you, this connection will be an equal give and take, you both will do everything for the other to make them happy.

Signals:

(Tea leafs: dolphin, windchimes, fox, broken ring, bull, needle and thread, ant, table)

For you, you'll be in a very nice moment of your life when you are about to meet your person, you'll be receiving a big amount of money because of something you did in the past, like a material reward. This material abundance will give you a feeling of peace and relief, you have the chance to have some vacations or free time by yourself, I see you a little secretive about this, like you don't want anybody to ruin this good time, you may also be silent about the amount of money you receive. For your person, they'll be dettaching from someone or something, the broken ring is usually associated with romance but I feel it more related to bussiness so they might be changing their job for a healthiest enviroment (if you felt called to pile 1 I suggest you to check it), it seems like their current work field is forcing your person to sacrifice themselves and keeps them in a defensive position. They'll have to work hard but it will bring them stability and security.

Channeled messages: Acts of service, getting a pet together, a cat person, sleep problems, full moons affect their mood, white horses and moths, vivid dreams, sitcoms, a lot of laugh, mental fog, meditation, 1212, 444, taurus, gemini, aquarius

#Spotify #witchblr #leoascendente #tarot #tarotblr #divination witch #pac reading #pick a pile #tarot reading #pick a card reading #tarot spread #love tarot spread #love tarot reading #future spouse tarot

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sashaisready · 5 months ago

Text

Starting Over: Chapter 2 - Broken

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

I'm sorry, part 2 got a little out of hand in length so I've decided to split it up into different chapters! There should only be one more part after this (maybe??!) Hope you enjoy! This is more of Bucky's POV and gives some more insight into what happened. Thanks for all your engagement with this series, as always comments and reblogs are appreciated! Unfortunately I no longer use taglists.

💔

Your phone sat on Bucky’s desk as he stared at it blankly. He wasn’t really sure what he expected, maybe that you’d call it, or it would magically reveal some sort of answers to the many questions he had. But it didn’t. It just laid there, about as useful as a rock. A ‘babe, how are you?! we need to hang out soon!’ notification from Natasha had lit up the screen an hour or so before, but otherwise it just continued to sit silently – an insulting prompt that mocked him with your absence, the clock on the screen taunting him with how late it had become.

He'd had a glance at the checking and credit card accounts he’d set up for you, but they hadn’t been touched. In fact, nothing had been touched. None of your clothes had moved, your toiletries remained in the bathroom. You hadn’t even appeared to have taken any shoes with you. Natasha’s casual check-in text suggested your friends were unaware of what had happened. You’d just…vanished. A ghost in the night.

He felt nauseous, his gut churning. He’d tried to find the CCTV footage of you leaving, but the image was grainy – he could hardly make you out. The cameras had been acting up lately, he needed Steve to get them fixed. He kept thinking about you wandering out into the night by yourself, no money, no plan, how he’d forced you out into the cold. The one person he swore to protect, to keep safe.

His guilt was eating him alive.

But then he thought of the recording. Your voice so clear, laughing with the fed – mocking Bucky, calling him names and sneering at his gullibility. He could hardly believe it all at first. Not you? Not his doll, who had opened him up to love in ways he could have never imagined. Surely it couldn’t have been you, who had uprooted his life for the better, who had hit him like a whirlwind, changing his very being forever in all the best ways?

But he’d checked in with Banner who ran the tech and had confirmed you had been there. Your phone had pinged the cell tower in that exact spot they’d tracked the meeting point to. They’d even found a CCTV clip of you getting in a strange car that day, despite telling Bucky you were having Wanda over for a girl’s night. The audio was delivered by his own men, verified by their informant. The evidence was overwhelming.

‘It was so easy’ you had giggled cruelly on the clip, the words burned into his memory, ‘I just fluttered my eyelashes a few times and he was asking me to move in after a few weeks. I barely lifted a finger yet he swallowed everything I gave him and asked for more. Now I know how his whole operation works…but I need more time on the Stark deal. Just give me a bit longer and I’ll have that one-armed pussy spill everything after a few more ‘I love yous’ and dirty fucks. I promise...’

Of course he’d seen red. How could he not? He’d always been hot-tempered (passionate, his mother used to say), and the recording had destroyed his entire world in a matter of seconds. Aside from the betrayal, the pain, he felt humiliated. He’d finally been vulnerable with someone, shared intimacy in ways he’d never experienced with another person – only to find out it was all a lie. A trick. A joke. It affirmed his biggest fear – that he had been correct to build those walls, to protect himself from anyone who would use his feelings against him. Love could be exploited as a weakness, and he’d turned up to the fight unarmed.

In his mind, he’d not thrown you out – not sweet, beautiful you. Not you who held him close in your sleep and nuzzled into his chest, not you who traced his scars with her fingers and encouraged him to take off his prosthetic when you were intimate if he wished to. Not you, who stayed up late on his birthday just to present him with a homemade cake when he came home after an exhausting meeting – insisting he blew out the candles. Did she ever even exist? He’d always joked you were too good to be true. Now he’d accidentally manifested that into reality.

No. He’d thrown out her. The woman who had been gathering intel on him since the moment the two of you had met. The woman who exchanged kisses for information. The woman who had laughed about all of this as she gleefully ratted on him, delighting in her prowess over the foolish, lovesick mob boss she’d so easily toppled. The woman who’d callously worn the mask of someone who loved him. She was thrown out of his house, out of his embrace.

Unfortunately, the two versions of you were one and the same.

But at least he knew better, now. He’d go back to casual sex and pretty girls hanging off his arm. Easy. Fun. Uncomplicated. The walls would go back up and they wouldn’t come down again. Deep down he’d always known that men like him weren’t meant to be loved, that they weren’t worthy of genuine affection. Not all voids could be filled. People like you, or at least who he thought you were, were not for him. They deserved better. You’d always deserved better. He’d had a brief taste of happiness, but that was all he deserved. The universe would continue to punish him for his many bad deeds.

The only thing left to do was finally go to bed, but a solemn knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. He could tell it was Steve.

“Steve?” he called, checking his watch. It was late, he’d assumed his second in command had already gone home.

Steve entered looking sullen. He was tensely holding his phone, and someone appeared to be on FaceTime with him. He cautiously extended it to his long-time friend.

“I’m sorry, Buck”, he said gravely.

“Steve..what?” Bucky asked as he gingerly took the phone from him. Sam looked back at him from the small screen, his solemn expression mirroring Steve’s.

“Bucky…I’m sorry,” Sam said quietly in that same tone, filling Bucky with a sinking dread.

Something was very wrong here.

“What is it?” He fired angrily at Sam, “just spit it out…”

Sam flipped the camera around to face what looked like a heap of old rags on the ground. He appeared to be in a parking garage, surrounded by nothing but concrete and darkness. It was hard to make anything out.

“What am I looking at here?” Bucky squinted at the camera as he tried to focus the image. Steve silently observed over his shoulder.

“Tell him what you just told us,” came the sound of Sam’s furious voice off-camera.

Bucky watched with confusion at the screen as Sam's boot suddenly kicked out at the heap, and the heap moved.

And then he clicked.

The ‘heap’ was a man.

The man groaned and cried out as Bucky realised the ‘rags’ were ripped, bloody clothes. He rolled over in obvious pain as Sam manoeuvred the camera to get a better look. As the man turned over, Bucky recognised his face.

It was one of his own.

“Rumlow?” Bucky asked with confusion.

Behind him, Steve moved closer and leaned forward to watch the screen. “Just watch, Buck” he said sombrely.

Rumlow looked up at the phone, blearily staring into the lens as he squinted at the phone light. His face was bruised and bloodied. Someone had given him a good going over.

“It was me. Alright? I did it,” Rumlow groaned.

“Did what?” Bucky sneered, still not entirely clear on where this was going – but already feeling his anger mounting.

Rumlow sighed heavily and Sam gave him another swift kick to the ribs to encourage him to continue.

He moaned out in pain and closed his eyes. “Aaargh. Alright…I did it! I did it okay! I made the recording!” he spat.

Bucky’s eyes darkened as comprehension of the situation unfolding began to take hold. His fist tightened around the phone screen. “Which recording…Rumlow?” He asked, his voice sinisterly calm.

Rumlow paused and spat a wad of blood onto the floor. Bucky recognised the look of fear building in the man’s eyes, he’d seen it many times before. Rumlow was stalling to delay the inevitable.

“Tell me!!” Bucky roared at the phone, holding it so tightly in his fist that the screen might crack.

He watched Rumlow wince as he turned away from the screen, dropping his head in defeat.

“Of your girl…talking to the police…it wasn’t her-uh-it wasn’t even real. I used AI. From…from recordings of her voice from old security footage…I’m sorry…I just-”

But Bucky was eerily composed. Rumlow took his silence as the cue to continue.

“I hacked into the security system and planted the clip of her getting in the car. And I stole her phone for a few hours when she was at the house with a friend, planting it at the meeting point then driving back with it. She didn’t even notice it was gone…I’m sorry I…”

Bucky cleared his throat. He tapped a single contemplative finger over his lips as his eyes glazed over.

“Sam?” he asked, his voice void of emotion.

Sam flipped the camera back to face himself. He looked grimly into the lens. “I’m sorry Buck…we had no idea…I caught him on the phone with the feds about the shipment – he thought I’d already left and-”

“Keep him warm,” Bucky interrupted, his voice cold like ice, “I have more urgent matters to attend to first, but I will deal with him”.

Sam merely nodded. Just as he cut the call, Bucky heard Rumlow wail and beg in the background. He’d be doing a lot more of that soon.

In a sudden fog of anger, Bucky pelted his phone hard against the wall. He roared with rage, lobbing his scotch glass at the window – shattering both. He flipped his desk, the chair, the bookcase – leaving a tsunami of destruction in his wake. Steve merely watched on, patiently. He knew Bucky needed to vent whichever way he could.

Eventually Bucky slowed, panting with exertion as he took a second to try and slick back his hair, now unkempt and messy from his outburst. He pulled back his shoulders as he attempted to regain his composure.

“We’ll find her, Buck”, Steve told him unwaveringly. “She can’t have gone far on foot. Then you can explain everything and apologise”.

Bucky shook his head as he ran his hands through his hair. Toeing the pile of debris that now cluttered his office floor he sighed heavily. “She told me she didn’t do it, Steve. And I didn’t believe her…”

“The recording was very convincing,” Steve clamped a sympathetic hand onto Bucky’s shoulder, “it sounded just like her – and had all of us fooled. Not to mention the phone location evidence…the CCTV of her leaving…before I came up here, Sam told me that this AI is brand new tech, far more advanced and convincing than what the masses have access to…”

Bucky bleakly shook his head, “Doesn’t matter. She’s my girlfriend and I’m supposed to trust her. Believe her. When I heard her voice on that recording I just…”, he trailed off sadly, “…it tapped into my worst fears…”

Steve nodded sagely. “Let’s just find her first, and you can talk to her. And then we can deal with Rumlow”.

Bucky grimaced, “I knew he was a risk to take on…with our shared history in HYDRA’s organisation…but I never thought…”

“Let’s just find her for now,” Steve repeated, always calm in a crisis. He pulled out his phone, making calls to various members of their group, sending out texts and kicking off various communication chains. In mere minutes, they’d have entire squads of their men scouring the area with a fine-tooth comb.

Bucky stood amongst the wreckage – the room’s physical ruins a glaring reminder that this wasn’t the only mess he’d made tonight. He pulled his own phone from his jacket pocket, opening his photo album as the pings and buzzes from Steve’s device filled the room. He flicked through the pictures of you: your face cheesily grinning at the camera, your lips sweetly planted on his cheek, a candid shot of you cooking in the kitchen – caught off-guard, your mouth a small ‘o’ of surprise. You’d asked him to delete it as you thought you looked dumb, but he insisted he keep as he like the way your eyes sparkled in it. It was one of his favourites. Looking at the pictures helped him calm down, his breath evening as he remembered what was important here. He ran a finger over the image of your face, “I’m sorry, doll” he whispered, “I promise I’ll do anything I can to fix this…”

A couple of miles away, you slept deeply in the tear-stained hotel sheets – completely unaware of the organised efforts to track you down. You didn’t dream, you didn’t stir, you just slept - grateful to give yourself over to oblivion.

💔

There had only been a few places you could have gone on foot.

Bucky’s men had worked quickly despite the late hour. The local police force, already firmly in Bucky’s pocket, loaned him a few law enforcement bodies to assist with the search, no questions asked – as was standard. Sheriff Bodecker always played ball. They collected the CCTV from local businesses, doorbell cam footage from local residents (who weren’t particularly happy to be woken to do so, but didn’t have much choice), swept the area on foot and in vehicles. It was faintly possible you had hitchhiked and thumbed a ride into the city, but Bucky knew this wasn’t likely, so they put that option on the backburner – although it hadn’t been entirely ruled out.

The gas station staff hadn’t seen you, but their CCTV did catch a blurred figure passing in the road opposite the camera. A faint outline of your route started to emerge as the puzzle pieces came together. Eventually, Bucky was sent the security footage of you checking into the Holiday Inn. His heart pulled as he watched you looking lost at the reception desk – your eyes round like saucers as you produced crumpled dollar bills, head turning left to right as you surveyed your drab surroundings. He could only imagine how lost you must’ve felt, how hurt and betrayed. Exiled by the man you loved, you trusted, and having to hunker down in a shitty roadside hotel. Part of him was impressed by your ability to pick yourself up and keep going even in the toughest circumstances – it was one of the many reasons he loved you. But mainly, he was ashamed. Ashamed that he’d pushed you to this, that he’d failed you in so many ways.

Bucky inhaled deeply as he closed the hotel clip on his phone, nodding to his driver and stepping into the dark SUV.

I’m on my way, doll.

#mob!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #starting over fic

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