#an attempt was made idk it was like 4 in the morning

[socks-nb]

Trying to get back into it, I missed this freak of a man

(When him being a freak has nothing to do with the extra finger, he’s just a Pines.)

[aureatelys]

like cherries in the spring

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader rating: explicit w.c.: 4k bc i cant stop myself

content warnings: 18+ PLEASE MDNI, porn without plot, consensual somnophilia (mentions of discussing it beforehand), intercrural sex sorta, thigh fucking sorta idk what to call it but thats close enough, brief v fingering, eventual p in v, light dom/sub undertones because thats who i am, light bondage (being held down), light choking (just a hand on your throat), unprotected sex, no y/n, established relationship, employee/boss relationship duh, self indulgent <3

summary:

You were barely conscious when you felt something poking your butt.

read on ao3 here or below <3333

You were barely conscious when you felt something poking your butt.

You try to blink awake, immediately blinded by the sunlight filtering in through the blinds. For a second, you think you’re still in Los Angeles with the California heat making your clothes stick to your back, working on a kidnapping case, which means you need to get up and get ready fast.

However, someone stirs behind you, and you realize you’re not in California. You’re home, in your bed, and being spooned by Aaron.

You try not to sigh in relief so as not to disturb him. He needs the rest, obviously, based on the fact that Aaron tends to get up like clockwork at 8 in the morning, even on his days off. You crane your neck to check the clock on your bedside table. Nearly 9:30 in the morning.

You’re almost tempted to wake him up, knowing that Aaron will be secretly annoyed and feeling like he slept the day away, but then you remember how late it was when you got in last night. The team just got done with a case in a Los Angeles suburb and decided to fly back home despite how late it was, which meant that it was really late when you finally made it back home. You distantly remember leaning on Aaron’s shoulder, trying not to fall asleep standing up, and him grunting for everyone to take the following day off and hearing everyone let out a tired cheer. You weren’t able to sleep on the jet, envious at everyone else’s ability to take a nap as soon as they closed their eyes, and kept Aaron company while he finished his notes.

You remember sitting across from him, the glow of the reading light shining on him with his head ducked over his files. He was clearly exhausted just like everyone else, evident by the bags underneath his eyes and the way he attempted to hide his yawn every couple of minutes, but you know that he always makes an effort to try and finish the paperwork the same day while the case was still fresh on his mind.

You had a book open in front of you, long forgotten, as you rested your chin in your palm and stared at your boyfriend.

He glances up at you every now and then and shakes his head to himself, smile on his face, when you make no move to stop staring almost dreamily. It’s not your fault he’s so handsome, even when he’s running on 4 hours of sleep.

“Ridiculous,” he had muttered, feigning annoyance, however you felt him knock his feet against yours underneath the table. Something warm settles in your chest at that.

You remember stumbling into Aaron’s apartment, through the living room, and falling face first into the bed. You hadn’t even bothered to change into your pajamas, but you were just too tired to care, evident by passing out as soon as your face hit the pillow.

It didn’t matter now, however, as you felt Aaron’s body pressed up against yours, so warm it was nearing unbearable. You felt his soft exhales against the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine, and the beginning line of his morning wood poking your ass. You felt the soft comforter brush against your bare legs and realize that Aaron must have changed you in your sleep, leaving you in your panties and a tank top.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling utter want tugging at the bottom of your stomach. It had been a couple of days since you guys had done anything, even with the shared hotel room. Working on a kidnapping case in a shitty hotel with thin walls didn’t really set the mood, no matter what anyone said. Sure, you and Aaron were able to sneak in some heated kisses and touches, but never more than that before both of you were falling asleep with case files and medical reports at the foot of the bed.

You carefully pushed your hips back against him, feeling his cock twitch against you. Aaron shifted, throwing his arm over your waist, however his breathing was still deep and heavy. He was usually a light sleeper, a result of the job, so him not waking up from that must mean he was more tired than he let on.

You’re still groggy, but an idea slowly forms in your head. Of course, you two didn’t get the chance to discuss this last night, but you distantly remember a conversation several weeks ago where you told Aaron you wouldn’t mind too much if he woke you up by touching you or going down on you and whether he would be interested in you doing the same to him.

He had given you a look so dark, pupils blown and a smirk slowly forming on his mouth, that you wanted to drop to your knees right there in the kitchen.

Instead, he leaned forward to press a kiss to the side of your head and mutter a “Some other time, dirty girl.”

Now seems like the perfect time.

You move your hips back again, relishing in the way you can feel Aaron’s cock grow bigger, harder. You wiggle and let out a breathy sigh when you feel him migrate to between your ass cheeks. It’s not enough and definitely not close enough to where you really want him, but it feels good. Dirty, just like Aaron had said.

You move up on the bed a little more, careful not to stir too much, lifting your hips from the bed a bit until his clothed cock was between your thighs and pressed right against your pussy.

You moan at that, clenching your thighs when you feel that familiar throbbing in your cunt, wishing he was already inside of you.

But this feels good too. Two layers of clothes between Aaron’s thick cock and your wet pussy. You start to move your hips against him, breathless at the way the head of his cock barely grazes your clit. You can feel the wet spot undoubtedly forming on your panties, your wetness helping his cock glide against you.

You feel yourself get carried away, chasing the small sparks of pleasure running up your spine just from feeling the girth of his cock against your hole, when you feel Aaron’s arm that’s draped over you move.

You freeze, though you’re not sure why, it’s not like you’re doing anything wrong, when you feel his hand come up to grope at your breast over your top.

You hear him hum, still breathing warm air against your neck, and feel him somehow press closer against you. You wait for him to say something, either teasing you for being so horny and rubbing up against him or wordlessly tugging his briefs down to press his cock against where you need him, but there’s nothing.

He’s still asleep.

You exhale in relief, ignoring the nagging thought in your brain saying why are you into this, you freak, but then Aaron’s hand on your breast starts moving, just barely groping.

You’ve known that Aaron has always been a touchy guy behind closed doors, always hungry and wanting to be close to you wherever he got a chance. He’s said it’s because he loves your body and not being able to touch you at work drives him crazy, and you can tell he’s telling the truth from the way his jaw clenches when you lean over his desk to hand him a file or the look he gives you when you cross your legs sitting across from him on the jet and your skirt rides up.

At home, you let him have his fill. He’s constantly groping your tits, pinching at your nipples. He’s grabbing a handful of your ass, squeezing, and grabbing your hips so hard he leaves bruises. He has a hand on the back of your neck and pushing your face into the mattress or wrapping his large hand at the base of your throat, putting light pressure as if a reminder of who you belong to. He loves touching you and you clearly don’t mind, however you’re seriously wondering how obsessed he is with your body if he can touch and grope you in his sleep.

He's squeezing your breast and canting his own hips against you. You feel his cock twitch again and the wet spot he must be leaving through his briefs drags against you and your thigh. You bite your lip at that, unsure whether Aaron was about to wake up or not.

You feel his hand move from your breast to your abdomen, fingers just barely brushing over your nipple, making you almost jump, and wrap his arm around your middle. You hear him grunt, something masculine and deep that makes you want to lose your mind, and feel him thrust into you, rutting into you like he can’t control himself.

You whimper at the feeling of being constricted, imagining Aaron’s veins popping out of his forearms. Not caring whether he’ll wake up, you reach down to pull at his briefs just enough so his cock pops free. You sigh at the feeling of hot flesh against your thigh and your mouth waters when you feel precum leaking down the head of his cock, smearing on your panties and thighs.

You wait and strain your ears to listen to Aaron’s breathing. Somehow, it’s still steady.

You’re starting to get impatient, just about to throw this all away and wake him up to sink down on him, but then you feel his bare cock press against your hole through your panties and it just feels so good. You know that if Aaron wakes up, he’s going to want to fuck you fast and hard and honestly, you’re having a lot of fun teasing yourself.

He stops humping into you, the arm around your middle relaxing, and he grumbles a bit and presses his face against the nape of your neck. His breath tickles you.

You start moving your own hips again, just barely, enough to feel the slow drag of his cock against your clit through your panties. They must be absolutely soaked through right now and you desperately wish you could just take them off without waking Aaron up and press the head of him into you, stretching you out. A sweat starts to break out on your back and on your neck and Aaron’s body heat, naturally running warmer than you, isn’t helping but you don’t care.

You hear a sharp inhale, a particular deep thrust against your pussy, and then a “What do you think you’re doing?”

You freeze, feeling like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar and not like you were humping desperately against your boyfriend like a teenager. “Uhm.”

His left arm moves up from where he was still wrapped around you, brushing purposefully against your nipples and making you whine, to wrap his hand around the base of your throat. He doesn’t put any pressure, but just the weight of his hand is enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“I said,” he whispers, exhaling against your ear. He thrusts his hips once against you, making his cock slide against you better in a way you could never replicate. “What are you doing?”

You swallow, unsure on how you want to play this. The low deep rasp of his voice this early in the morning always sends you reeling. “Nothing.”

Aaron hums and the grip he has on you tightens just a bit before he’s trailing down your chest. This time, he flicks your left nipple, making you jump and bite your lip at the same time, and moving down past your stomach and to your pussy. “This doesn’t feel like nothing, honey.”

His hand traces the waistband of your panties and the curve of your hips. The callouses on his fingers are rough, but familiar, making you squirm against him. Aaron hisses at that and it’s like he finally snaps as he reaches between your legs and roughly pulls your panties to the side to thrust his cock against your bare cunt, hips slamming into yours.

“In fact, it feels like you’re being a dirty girl, rubbing up on me like you can’t help yourself.”

Your gasp morphs into a moan when you feel the head of his cock finally brushing your swollen clit, no clothes in the way. Now you can feel how sopping wet you are, making the glide of his throbbing cock against your pussy smooth and perfect. This whole thing feels dirty, like you’re trying to take what you can get before you can get caught even though there’s no one else home with Jack being at a sleepover. The thrusting of his hips against yours to rub against your wet folds just makes you think about him fucking you into the mattress until you’re a whining mess. “Aaron…”

 “What do you want, baby?” Aaron murmurs, starting to press soft kisses behind your ear. Hearing his early morning voice again makes your insides turn into a puddle. The warmth of his body and his cologne from yesterday still barely detectable is intoxicating, making you spread your legs a little so his cock nestles deeper against your wetness. You start to move your own hips to meet his and the lewd sound of your pussy and his hips slamming into yours is so so hot.

“Please…” you whine, the words dying in your throat because your head is swimming, and you don’t know exactly what to say. You secretly hope he knows what you want—what you need.

Aaron suddenly gets up to sit on his knees and moves you with a hand on your hip so you’re laying flat on your front, face pressed into your pillow. You nearly cry at the loss of pressure against your clit, but he quickly puts a hand on the back of your head to shove your face into the pillow. He straddles your thighs, roughly moves your panties aside again to insert a thick finger inside of you.

You moan wantonly at the feeling of finally being filled, the sound muffled against the pillow. His finger goes in easily due to how wet you were, but the feeling of being stretched even just a little bit make you feel drunk.

“Is this what you want, pretty girl?” He moves his finger in and out of you fast, almost rough, but it’s still something and it can still make you come if you try really hard since you’ve been playing with yourself for what feels like hours.

You already start to feel the beginning pressure at the pit of your stomach, clenching and unclenching around just one finger. Your clit is barely getting anything out rubbing against the sheets, but you don’t even care, having been on edge for days. “Yes, yes—Aaron…”

Aaron hums casually from behind you, as if you guys were talking about the weather. “Are you going to come for me?”

You nod furiously into the pillow, moving your face to the side so you can breathe more easily. “Yes, yes, please—”

Suddenly he takes his finger out of you with a loud and vulgar noise, nearly making you scream in frustration. You’re about to yell at him, maybe even turn around and smack him on the shoulder, until you feel your panties being quickly tugged down your legs, the head of his cock up against your hole, and then pressing in.

“Oh…,” you moan, nearly sighing in the familiar feeling of being properly filled. There’s a slight burn from that stretch you secretly love. The hand he had pressed against the back of your head migrates to the back of your neck, grabbing a hold of you so possessively it makes you squirm.

Aaron leans over you until his face is next to yours, his soft moans like music to your ears as he bottoms out. “Fuck, baby, you’re still so tight…”

You try to crane your neck to look at him, desperate to see his face. He has his eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration, most likely trying to resist immediately fucking into you. His hair is almost artfully mussed, fluffy and falling into his face. Yesterday’s stress is gone and instead is replaced with absolute desire. His other arm is pressing into the mattress so he can hold himself over you and you nearly start to drool at his bicep bulging out, the veins in his thick forearms prominent.

And as if he can feel your eyes on him, his eyes open. They’re dark and piercing, pupils nearly blown out. There’s a hint of that damn smugness in the corner of his mouth, but it smooths out into something softer around the edges when he leans in to press a closed-mouthed kiss against yours. He knows how much you hate morning breath.

The tender action makes something clench in your chest and you wonder again how you got so lucky.

All sweet thoughts fly out the window when Aaron pulls out slowly until just the head of his cock is in you. You moan at the sudden loss and squirm, knowing how much he likes seeing your hips move.

Just like you predicted, he growls and slams back into you, pressing his hips against the flesh of your ass. “So needy.”

“Aaron, please…” you beg, moving your arms from underneath you to behind you in an attempt to touch him, feel him, something.

Because Aaron is Aaron and somehow can read your mind, you feel him grab both of your wrists together in one hand to press against your back. You have no leverage now and can breathe a little easier now that he’s not pressing down on your neck, instead his other hand gripping onto your hip.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give what my dirty girl needs,” Aaron coos, almost mockingly in the way that makes your heart stutter, and then he starts fucking you so hard the breath gets knocked out of you.

He’s relentless, no more teasing and rubbing up against his cock. The grip of his fingers on your hip and wrists are tight, hopefully enough to leave bruises, as he essentially pulls you on and off his cock. He fills you out so good, hitting that spot inside of your pussy that sends sparks up your spine, making you feel like your brain is short circuiting. It’s like you can’t even think anymore, which is a normal occurrence when Aaron fucks you like this, and all you can hear is the wet sounds of your pussy, his hips slamming against yours, and moans that he’s not bothering to hide anymore.

You distantly can hear yourself begging to come, nearly screaming yourself hoarse. You’re sensitive, nearly overstimulated with the way Aaron is pounding into you, and you just want to come already. The sheets are wrapped around your thighs, barely rubbing against your clit, and it’s not enough and you arch your back the way he likes, move your hips in an effort to tell him to touch you. “Fuck, oh my God, Aaron.”

“You need me to touch you, baby?” Aaron says, breathlessly, and you know he’s close too, probably holding off until you come first because you know that’s something he likes.

He must be just as impatient as you are because he’s immediately releasing his hold on your wrists to wriggle a hand underneath you and rub your clit in a way that was delicious but almost rough, almost painful enough that it sends you over the edge.

You choke on your moan as you feel your pussy clench on his hard cock, squeezing your thighs together. Your hands find purchase clawing at the sheets underneath you, wrists tingling from where he held onto you. Your mind blanks out, empty besides the sheer bliss wracking your body. Aaron keeps fucking you, keeps flicking your clit, groaning your name and it just adds to your orgasm, nearly making you roll your eyes back into your head.

You feel him fuck you faster, harder, and you had just begun floating down from your orgasm when Aaron comes inside you with a deep and guttural moan. You’ve always loved hearing the noises he makes; how manly he sounds, how deep his voice can get, and the way he whispers your name like a prayer. The noise he makes when he comes, however, is definitely in your top 3.

“Fuck, you take my cock so well,” Aaron grunts, thrusting into you one last time. The hold he has on your hip is nearly painful, definitely bruising. You moan unabashedly at that and the feeling of his warm come inside of you, filling you up. You clench down on him one last time, milking him for all he’s worth, and you hear Aaron’s choked laugh behind you.

He slips out of you, and you feel his eyes on your pussy; probably swollen and absolutely a soaking mess with your wetness smeared all over your inner thighs. He hums, finally satisfied, at the sight of his come dripping out of your cunt, dripping down your slit and onto the sheets. You feel his thumb come and trace your hole, gentle, but making you squirm nonetheless at how sensitive you are and sending a shock through you. His hand is on your hip again, squeezing in a warning, silently telling you to take it.

And you do, keening softly when you feel the rough pad on his thumb brush your clit, smearing his come around. You always had an inkling that Aaron was dirty, with his domineering voice and the way he so easily takes control of a room when he walks in, but you were in for a rude awakening when you both finally stopped dancing around each other.

You hear Aaron inhale sharply when you clench and unclench, probably pushing more wetness out onto the sheets, and you almost brace yourself for his cock to press against your hole again when you feel the bed dip and Aaron getting up to the bathroom to help clean you up. You’re only slightly disappointed, but then remember it’s not even noon and you got the rest of the day left. You bring your arms to cross and rest your head on them while you wait, smiling to yourself as the languid relaxation seeps into your bones the way only getting fucked out of your mind does.

Aaron is tender and gentle while he cleans you up. Underneath all the stoic and cold demeanor, Aaron has always been a huge softie and loves taking care of you, no matter the occurrence. You feel that care when there’s large hands and a towel, warm on your thighs, your hips, your ass as he presses his lips to the bottom of your spine. You feel the barely there scratch of his stubble and hum.

When he’s done, he crawls up the mattress to his spot and settles down with a huff. He immediately is wrapping around you, flinging his arm and leg over you to pull you in closer as you laugh. Your face is pressed against his chest, flushed pink, and you impulsively press a kiss there against the wiry hair. You feel him kiss the top of your head, no doubt smiling because he secretly loves the attention you give him.

“You okay?” Aaron asks, so soft in a way that makes you want to wiggle further into him.

Instead, you push back a bit to look up at him where he’s already watching you, eyes affectionate. Your legs are tangled with his, hips pressed against each other’s despite knowing how sweaty he is. His mouth, usually in that straight line, has softened, and the sight of his bedhead and relaxed brow makes you want to spend the next week touching him all over. His cock pressed against your thigh, half-hard, tells you that may be possible.

“Perfect,” you say, and then you push at his shoulder until he flops on his back, gazing up at you almost reverently as you climb on top of him to straddle his hips.

One of his hands wander up your thighs until he settles on your hip. His hair falls into his face, his eyes still drowsy but the hunger plain as day. He brings his other arm to rest above his head, against the pillows, in a clear show of his muscles that makes your mouth water. He looks devastatingly handsome and just so hot, it’s really not fair.

“Good morning,” he says, casually, as if you’re not quietly losing your mind.

You give him a devilish grin and push your hips back until you can feel the head of his cock against you, already hard and leaking precum against your ass. Satisfaction curls up your spine when his small smile falters and his jaw clenches. You lean down, knowing that he loves the feeling of your breasts pushing against his chest and nipples dragging, until you’re hanging your lips right above his.

“A very good morning, it is.”

[reysdriver]

okay, just thinking about some celebrity daring to hit on sirius and he's like "bitch??" and then immediately runs to tattoo reader's name (VERY BIG) on the left side of his chest, right over his heart! and since he takes off his shirt at every show, everyone can enjoy the view (reader is also taken by surprise, she gets very horny if you ask me

Sirius shows the world where his passion lies — rockstar!sirius x reader fluff

warnings: allusions to sex, very suggestive

words: 1k

a/n: I love this request so much omggg that is such a Sirius thing to do (I could see James doing it too actually) but it's just PERFECT. I did change it a bit by making reader know about it beforehand but I hope it's still good! Also horny part 2 maybe... idk yet

You came back to the hotel room with coffee in your hand, a bag of pastries in your purse, and a tabloid magazine under your arm. 

With The Marauders on tour, you’ve been living out of suitcases with your boyfriend and your friends for the last couple weeks. You’ve all been sharing sleep schedules with wolves, staying up until dawn and sleeping later than everyone else in whatever city you were staying in. 

That’s precisely why you left to grab breakfast at eleven in the morning and Sirius was still fast asleep. 

By the time you got back, you walked in to find Sirius wide awake, but still in bed, tangled in the bedsheets. 

“Good morning, love.” Sirius said, shirtless with one hand behind his head. 

“It was a good morning.” You teased, tossing him the magazine. “Then I saw you in the news.”

“Me?” He feigned surprise. It wasn’t at all uncommon for Sirius to be in the news or the tabloids, but it was usually for something he did, not some pop princess who writes songs you get tired of after two listens. 

Sirius sat up and scanned the front page, curious as to what was going on. 

Mary Macdonald makes her move on rock star Sirius Black; New musical romance in the works?

The caption was sitting atop a picture of the popstar in question onstage at a concert, her crop top showing off a fake tattoo on her abdomen with text reading Reserved 4 Sirius Black alongside an arrow pointed down. 

“Oh, come on.” Sirius laughed, throwing the paper to the end of the bed. “This is what got you all bothered?”

You set your purse down and brought the coffee and pastries over to your boyfriend. 

“Yes, so bothered I almost didn’t buy you a coffee. Be happy I did, though.” 

“Of course I’m happy. I love you, doll.”

Sirius lifted the sheets and held out a hand to beckon you into the bed with him. You obey reluctantly, putting on a dramatic pout as you crawled in with your boyfriend and straddled his lap. 

“You know you’re the only one for me, right?” He whispered, hands tracing along your hips. 

You combed your fingers through his perfect hair, a frown on your face. 

“Tell that to the singer-songwriter superstar announcing to the world that you’re the only person she wants between her legs.” 

Sirius smiled in a way that made it painfully obvious he had something stupid to say. “Love, there are millions of people who feel that exact way about me. Including you, I would hope.”

Damn, this man was exhausting. And of course you loved him for it. 

You rolled your eyes and tried to get out of the hotel bed, though your attempt was foiled by Sirius holding you back. 

You let him get his way, but gave him an unimpressed look that did not match his badly-stifled grin. 

“I’ll take care of it, alright?” He said, not elaborating at all. 

You shook your head, hoping he would say more about whatever PR stunt he had in mind. 

“Siri, what are you gonna do?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Sirius said softly. He took your hand in his and slid your palm gently across his bare chest. “I’ll take care of it, don’t you worry.”

✦✧✦✧✦

The next concert the band had was a few days after you first saw that magazine. You stood in the wings of the concert stage, just before the show started. 

All the other band members had gone onto the stage and started setting up their instruments and playing the long intro to the opening song; it was just Sirius left, saying goodbye to you before he started performing and you made your way to the VIP section. 

“You’re gonna do great, Siri.” You told him sincerely. 

He winked at you, cocky as ever. 

“I always do.” 

Sirius then softened and masked your tone. He held your upper arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“I’ll let them all know I’m yours, and only yours.”

“They’re gonna go crazy.” You smiled.

“Damn right, they will. I’ll see you out there.”

Sirius gave your ass a playful smack before jogging out to the stage before he missed his cue, so you went down to your reserved space in the audience to see the band play from the best angle. 

The audience lost their minds when Sirius ran onto the stage, per usual, screaming and shouting when all he’s done so far was enter. 

But once Sirius started singing, the crowd noticed something off about the performance—Sirius was wearing a whole shirt for the first time throughout this tour. None of the band acknowledged it, of course; they were too busy playing music to be worried about what Sirius was wearing tonight. 

Once the song finished, Sirius took a moment to say hello to the audience. After all the routine talking points—you know, your ‘how’s everybody doing?’ and whatnot—Sirius found it was the right time to say what he wanted to say. 

“I saw a magazine cover the other day, with my name on it.” He started. “And not for the usual reasons. Mary Macdonald, I think it was…”

Many audience members went wild at the mention of her name, either because they were fans of her music, or they knew exactly what headlines Sirius was referring to. 

“That was definitely an odd thing to wake up and see. But I’ve thought about it because it’s been everywhere, and I just have one thing to say about that.”

Instead of responding verbally, Sirius pulled off his black tank top with a smooth, swift motion, revealing his newest tattoo. 

Your name was printed loud and clear on his chest, right over his heart. He got it done the day the Mary Macdonald pictures came out, and he was ecstatic to show it off to the world. 

It caused quite a reaction, but you weren’t listening to the audience to know what they were even thinking. All you cared about was Sirius up on that stage, blowing you a kiss as The Marauders started to play the next song.

[normspellsman]

Tidal Wave

part one | part two

pairing: lo’ak x fem!human!reader

genre: angst, more angst, comfort (from tsireya to lo’ak + from spider to reader + from kiri to reader), & fluff (at the very end)

word count: 14.4k+ (holy fuck)

warning(s): suggestive content, crying, yelling, familial arguments, secrets are spilled (😬), neytiri + lo’ak arguing, mentions of violence + self inflicted injury (reader rubs skin raw), mention of incident at ta’unui clan, slightest lo’ak x tsireya, reader having self-deprecating thoughts, lo’ak being lovesick for reader, mention of lo’ak being sad, major character death, sprinkle of miscommunication / misinterpretation of actions, blood, slightest spider x reader, kiri + reader are bffs!, heartbreak?, cursing, & mentions of having little appetite

taglist: @bewbz2110 @httpjiikook @aonungsmate @cheyehc @ihave500hubbiez @heart-an0n @omnifanfic @toomuchtime02 @bigdikzaddy @anxietydrogz @myh3artttt @ancientbeing10 @yourusername1 @dearstell @goodiesinthecloset21 @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @arminsgfloll @optimisticblazetrash @liyahsocorro @universal-s1ut @amortencjja @sweetirilly @blushhpeachh @alohastitch0626 @btsiguess-kpop @ithinkimaslutforharry @zootymcnooty @zeeader @reallysparklychaos @zeida @coffeehurricanes @manumanulau @pumpararapam @ipang @willowcxmilee @audigay @sagaonpandora

word bank: sa’nok — mother, sempul — father, eywa / great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, tawtute — human; sky person, ikran — four winged creature used for hunting + flying, kehe — no, palulukan — thanator, sìlpeytsyìp — little hope (idk if it’s an accurate translation since i just put the words hope + little together), tulkun — whale like creatures, ilu — sea creature used for hunting + riding, yawne — beloved, & nga yawne lu oer — i love you

songs that i drew inspo from: a match into water by pierce the veil, gilded lily (sped up version) by cults, mr. forgettable by david kushner, & reflections by the neighbourhood

note: huge shoutout to @neteyamslovrr for helping me proofread this! ilysm baby 😭🫶🏼🤍 mentions of readers birthday takes place around 3-4 months after her & spider were kidnapped (so reader, kiri, spider, & lo’ak are aged up to 17-18). i imagined the events of atwow happening over a couple of months due to the fact that ronal is more visibly pregnant towards the end than when we first see her. so, just for clarification :)

Lo’ak had begged his parents the morning after to save you.

He pleaded and begged, getting on his knees as he sobbed into his Sa’nok’s thigh, covering it in his warm tears and snot. But, Jake’s answer stayed persistent: “They are strong kids, son. They will be alright,”. Of course, Jake wasn’t aware that Lo’ak and his other siblings heard what he had to say about you and Spider the night before during he and Neytiri’s heated discussion.

( “The kids know everything! They know where we live! Spider knows our whole operation. We are not safe as long as they have those two. They both can lead him right here! We are no longer safe staying here.” )

Lo’ak knew that neither you or Spider would ever give up the location of High Camp or of the Sully family. The both of you were loyal to a fault. Perhaps too loyal for your own good. It hurt to hear that his own Sempul would ever think that you would betray the family you grew to think of as your own. Lo’ak knew you better than anyone else.

Having to leave the Omatikaya and not even attempt to save you made Lo’ak resent his parents, his heart completely breaking into two as he got farther and farther from his home and essentially you. It was days before he had spoken to his parents after arriving at Awa’atlu, but it wasn’t like his parents sought out to speak to him either.

The more time he spent on the island, the more time he found himself yearning to have you by his side. To experience all of this with you. There was a constant hole in his chest that never left, deepening every time he thought of you. He had no way of knowing if you were being tortured at the current moment or even alive. He didn’t trust the RDA to keep you alive, especially once they saw how loyal you were to Jake and his family, disposing of you like you were nothing. You are everything to Lo’ak and it pained him to not know how you were doing or what was happening to you during your time in the enemy’s hands.

He could only pray to Eywa every night to keep you safe and spare you, fully aware that if she answered his call, she’d need something in return. And he was fully prepared to pay the price with his own life.

———

The torture they put you through was something you’d never would wish upon your greatest enemy.

They had ceased the torture on Spider, the orders being given to them by Quaritch. So, Ardmore turned to you and inflicted all kinds of pain and continuous torture onto you. The human boy begged Quaritch to put a stop to this, demanding him to let you go. But no matter how much Spider pleaded with the man or how many times he went over it with Ardmore, the woman didn’t budge. She was insistent on getting something out of you. But all she really got was memories and flashes of a tall Na’vi teen boy and nothing else. Things that were useless to her, so she punished you every time.

The first time you arrived at their base, their doctors had pulled you aside and assessed you. They deemed that you had multiple fractured ribs and a mild concussion, ordering Ardmore to let you heal before she decided to do anything. She agreed to it at first since she had Spider to get information out of, but once Quaritch told her that he was off limits and was going to comply with him and his team, she began to drag you out to the interrogation room and leave you in there for hours until you passed out.

It was the same routine for weeks. Wake up, get dragged to the interrogation room, receive endless amounts of torture for hours, pass out, repeat. Days began to blur together, not knowing where one began and the next stopped. It was all the same.

The first time you realized you had been in the RDA’s grasp for too long was the night Spider had snuck into your room and gently sang happy birthday to you. It must’ve been months then. Your seventeenth birthday was celebrated nearly a year before being taken hostage by Quaritch. Ardmore had deemed it best to separate Spider and you from each other, breaking down both of your support systems. That night, as you and the boy silently cried into the dark of your room, you lost all hope that Lo’ak was coming back for you.

It hurt too much to think about. But you knew, you knew that eventually, it was never going to work out. You were too different. Something was bound to happen sooner or later, ripping the two of you from each other and essentially ending the relationship you had with one another. You loved Lo’ak dearly but you knew that your love was never in the cards. It was something taboo, forbidden. You only hoped that Lo’ak was able to find comfort within someone else during this time. For you doubted that you’d ever see each other again. He needed someone like him. Not you.

———

Lo’ak had done everything he could to keep his mind off of you.

He needed to keep his mind off of you if he didn’t want to break down in the middle of the beach twenty-four-seven. So, he often spent more time training with Tsireya and got into meaningless fights whenever he could, angering his parents to no end. It worked at times, but often not, his mind always wandered back to you. Always.

“Lo’ak, what are you doing?” A soft voice asked, pulling the boy away from his never ending thoughts of the one person he desired to see.

“Moping,” he mumbled, crossed legged on the shoreline as he picked at the soft sand beneath him.

“I can tell,” she replied, taking a seat next to him. The boy next to her looked like a wounded puppy, ears drawn back as his tail laid limp beside him. Plus, he had a frown painted onto his face as he blankly stared at the sand below. “What is bothering you?” She asked, calmness etched into her voice.

Lo’ak hadn’t told her, or any other Metkayina for that matter, about you and the kind of relationship you shared. Sure he mentioned you and Spider and what happened before he and his family left to seek uturu from the reef people. But he never gave anyone the idea that he was in love with you. He didn’t know how any of them would react.

“Is it about the humans you mentioned earlier?” She added, filling in the silence that was growing between them as Lo’ak didn’t answer her previous question.

The boy only hummed, poking his fingers into the damp sand. He really didn’t want to talk to Tsireya about this. It risked the chance of his Sa’nok hearing or a stranger eavesdropping and telling everyone else in the village about how much he cared for a tawtute. It also hurt to talk about you. Because he knew once he started, he was never going to stop.

“I am sorry that they were taken. I know they meant a lot to you and your siblings,” Tsireya commented, truly feeling sorry for the young boy. She could tell that Lo’ak deeply cared for the humans and she couldn’t imagine losing someone that close to her like that.

A shrug from Lo’ak was his only response to the girl’s comfort, tears beginning to prick his eyes as he began to crave your touch and soothing lips against his. He began to forget what it was like to have your hands and lips on his own skin, making the hole in his chest increase in size.

“What were their names again?” She delicately asked, genuinely curious. Foreign things always interested the girl and she had never seen a tawtute before. So, befriending people that have, made her want to ask all of the questions she’s been dying to ask. The girl knew that her chance of meeting a human was extremely low before the Sully’s arrival, but that still didn’t stop her from wondering.

A small smile etched itself onto the corners of Lo’ak’s lips as he thought about you. Your name was probably his favorite thing to utter. It becoming a prayer during the darkest hours of the night, with you being the only one to answer his mumbled words. You were Lo’ak’s salvation and he never hesitated to remind you.

“(Y/N) and Spider,” he replied, fingers now fiddling with the anklet around his foot. You had made it for him for his fifteenth birthday. The poor boy had been so flustered while trying to tie it around his ankle that the woven material kept slipping through his fingers. You offered your help with a giggle, your soft fingertips causing fire to erupt against his skin as they trailed from his ankle bone to his calf in a teasing manner. If Lo’ak closed his eyes and tried hard enough, he could still feel the tingly sensation your fingers left behind in their wake.

“Those are…interesting names,” Tsireya giggled, testing out their names on her tongue, attempting to enunciate every letter and vowel to the best of her ability. “Humans have such weird names,” she comments, reflecting back on the time she briefly met Norm and Max when they came to visit after Kiri’s seizure.

Lo’ak only hummed in response, smile still on his face as he recalled all the memories he has of you. He missed you so much. He felt empty without you. He felt as if he had half a soul with you gone. His whole being ached to be with you, touch you, love you.

The Metkayina girl noticed Lo’ak’s almost blissful smile on his face, copying his actions. She could only assume that one of you meant more to him than the other. That the other held a special place in his heart. “Which one is it?” She asked, not trying to sound like she was prying. That was the last thing she wanted to do. She was just curious.

Lo’ak’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, “What do you mean?”.

“Which one has you wrapped around their finger?”.

The question itself made Lo’ak blush, bottom lip going in between his teeth in an attempt to stop an even wider smile from making its way onto his face. Damn, he thought, she can read me like a book. You got to be more subtle man.

The boy gave her his answer, tail perking up and swaying to and from at the mention of your name, his body betraying him at trying to hide his affection for you.

“Can you tell me about her?” Tsireya asked, enthralled at how just the mere mention of your name influenced such actions from the Omatikaya boy.

Lo’ak didn’t need to be asked twice before he began to talk about you, barely taking any breaths in between each word he uttered. If only his Mother and Father could see how much love Lo’ak held for you. If only.

———

“Ready kid?”.

You’d rather throw yourself off the highest floating mountain than go with Quaritch and his team on their mission to hunt down Jake and his family. But, alas, you had to go. You had to go unless you wanted to continue to be tortured by the old blonde Captain. You hated that woman with everything you had in you.

Quaritch had promptly requested Ardmore to cease her torturous treatment on you, stating that he finally got a lead on where the Sully’s might be and that you were crucial to the plan he and his team were putting together. He needed you to go with them and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He saw how Jake’s son had reacted when he was teasing the boy about you. The boy cared for you and Quaritch was going to use it as leverage somehow.

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?” You replied, eyes narrowing at the man in front of you. You absolutely did not want to go wherever they were going, but you didn’t want to stay behind and be tortured to death. So, you took the lesser of two evils (if you could even call it that).

Quaritch chuckled at your response, shaking his head, motioning you to follow after him. The man had taken a liking to you, much like he did with Spider. You weren’t afraid to express how much you disliked the man nor did you hesitate to express your distaste for the whole situation he put you in. He liked your bluntness and admired your loyalty to the Na’vi, even if it was a major inconvenience for him and his team.

You had only ridden on an ikran a handful of times before, Lo’ak only being able to convince you with his little pout and big pleading eyes. You never were a fan of heights and having to spend Eywa knows how long on an ikran to the next base Quaritch was heading to made you want to cry. At least with Lo’ak, you knew that he’d always catch you if you began to slip. But with Quaritch, you were confident he wouldn’t give two shits if you slipped off the flying creature.

“I am not getting on an ikran with you,” you commented, hands on hips as you approached the RDA Avatar soldiers and their ikrans. You were very surprised that the whole group managed to, successfully, claim an ikran within only months of being on Pandora whereas native Na’vi trained their whole lives for this. It all left a bitter taste in your mouth when you thought about it.

“You’re not, sweetheart,” Quaritch answers, turning back towards you once he reached his bonded companion.

The ikran was probably the most beautiful you’ve seen, even with your limited experience with the creatures. The whole body of the animal was a deep navy blue, streaks of gold and orange decorating its wings. The animal itself was gorgeous. It was ironic how someone so evil and ugly had managed to tame something so beautiful.

“Spider’s riding with me. You’ll ride with Z-Dog,” he continued, clicking his tongue towards the tall Avatar woman, gently petting his ikran as he did so.

Your eyes were torn from the navy creature in front of you to the woman. Your blood went cold as you made eye contact, her hard stare boring into your eyes as she robotically chewed at the gum in her mouth. Great, you thought, I’m definitely going to die.

“We don’t have all day, kid,” Quaritch commented, already mounted on his ikran as Spider sat in front of him, eyes worriedly scanning your figure as you stood there frozen in place.

Your eyes then drifted from the woman to her bonded companion behind her, its face gently nuzzling into her side affectionately. Your heart clenched at the sight of the animal. It looked almost identical to that of your boyfriend's ikran. Lo’ak’s was an almost dark blue, gold swirling around its neck and wings. His companion shared many similarities to the one of his Father, the only difference being the black patch on his protruding lower jaw. Memories of when Lo’ak took you out for rides on his ikran flooded your mind, making the hole in your chest double in size.

“Let’s go,” the woman said, snatching your forearm in her grip as she placed you onto the creature, placing herself behind you as she made tshaleyu with the animal. The winged creature chirped in delight at the sensation and shrieked once it readied itself to take flight, wings twitching.

You braced yourself for the ride, both hands tightening around one of the ikrans queues, thighs tensing in anticipation. The rides you had with Lo’ak were much more smoother and gentler. Lo’ak made sure to put emphasis on how he dismounted from the ground, trying to make it as smooth as possible for you. His bonded animal always complied, never rushing when he pushed off the ground and into the skies above. You found yourself missing that process as you desperately tried not to slip off the poor animal as it ascended into the blue sky. It was rough, to say the least.

Once you reached an appropriate enough altitude, Z-Dog steadied and leveled out her ikran, halting the rough turbulence you experienced moments prior. The creature chirped once again, smoothly gliding through the wind.

You always loved the feeling you got whenever you were up in the sky with Lo’ak despite your anxiety regarding heights. He always made sure that you were okay throughout the ride as well as before and after the fact. But with the stranger you were assigned to, you found yourself wanting to hurl in anxiousness. You only hoped that this was going to be a quick and fast flight to wherever the hell you were heading to.

———

The minute you stepped into the small room the tulkun hunters had allowed you to occupy during your stay, you fell to your knees. Sobs racked your body as your mind replayed the scenes that you witnessed only minutes prior. Arriving at the Ta’unui village. The gathering of their people like they were sheep to slaughter. Quaritch threatening the Tsahik and Olo’eyktan of the clan. Lyle shooting and killing a sea creature on his Colonel’s order. The burning of the peoples homes. The killing of a Mother tulkun. It all kept replaying in your head, even when you moved to the even smaller shower.

You tried so hard to rid of the memories in your head, of the smell on your skin, of the guilt you felt. You rubbed at your skin until it was raw and hot and bleeding. The permanent reminder of just what your race is capable of slamming to the forefront of your mind. It all felt wrong. It feels wrong being here. Feels wrong to live on Pandora where its native species had to experience the pain and constant attempts of colonization from a different species. It all felt like you were contributing to whatever Quaritch had in mind. Even if he didn’t tell you any details, you still chose to come along. Maybe staying behind with Captain Ardmore would’ve been a better option. After all, it wouldn’t have mattered if you were alive or not at the end of it for you already felt dead inside. Nothing and no one would be able to bring you comfort from what you just saw and gone through.

“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice asked, it cracking from the amount of emotion the owner felt.

“Spider,” you whispered, curling in on yourself as you saw his figure standing in your doorway, tears streaming down his face.

The boy made his way to your bed, laying on it, facing you on his side. Not a word was uttered between you two, not needing any to communicate the type of comfort you both seeked from each other. And you stayed like that, facing each other and grasping onto each other's hands for comfort as you unknowingly fell asleep, slumber welcoming you into its embrace. But even your dreams weren’t a safe place. You dreamt of fire, of blood, and of death the whole night.

Maybe Neytiri was right. You should’ve never befriended the Sully children. You should’ve stuck to your own kind.

———

The second Lo’ak heard that a boy and a girl had been with Quaritch and his team during their attack on a nearby village, he began to ready his ilu for the trip. For getting you back.

The boy had paced back and forth from the edge of the mauri to his swimming companion, bending down to slip on the various of saddles the animal needed for riding. The creature chirped up at him every time Lo’ak bent down, seemingly encouraging him as he did so.

“What are you doing?” A voice asked, confusion laced in their tone. Lo’ak knew who it was before they even spoke. His Sa’nok had a bad habit of sneaking up on everyone, being too quiet for her own good. The hairs on the back of his head always stood up on end whenever he felt his Mothers presence behind him, alerting him of the potential rage he was going to face from the woman.

“To save them,” Lo’ak mumbled, too focused on saddling the right equipment on his companion, fiddling with the straps as he tightened them. The boy knew that his parents never really cared for either of your well-beings, it being evident in their body language and actions whenever he or Kiri talked about the things they did with the pair of you that particular day. If they weren’t willing to save you, then Lo’ak would take it upon himself to. He finally knew where you were after months of not knowing and he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms again.

A growl emitted itself from his Mothers lips, her hand coming out to grip her son's bicep into her grasp, “Kehe!”.

Neytiri didn’t know why her son was so infatuated with you, a tawtute. She was always against her children from befriending you and Spider, glaring at your figures everytime you walked by at High Camp. Her son seemed to be closer with you than Spider. The fact always bothered her, making her skin crawl with anger. Angry that you were occupying her son's time when he could be doing other things, meeting other people, and talking to other appropriate women of the clan.

“You will not,” she continued, scowl painted onto her face as she glared down at her son. She knew that if Lo’ak were to continue with his plan and make it to wherever you were, that Quaritch wouldn’t hesitate to shoot or take him prisoner. She couldn’t have that. Neytiri needed all of her children within eyesight so she could look over them and make sure that they were safe. She wouldn’t be able to do that if her son went to you.

Lo’ak growled back at his Mother, ripping his arm out from her tight grip. The boy had his mind made up and nobody was going to stop him. He needed to get to you. He needed you.

“I will. Why do you even care? You haven’t bothered to talk to me the whole time here. The only time you talk to me is to yell or scold me for doing yet another thing wrong,” Lo’ak hissed out, teeth tightly clenched. “(Y/N) and Spider care about me more than you ever have!” He added, whole body shaking in anger.

Neytiri gasped at her sons exclaimation, lightly hissing at him, “How dare you think that? I love you, Lo’ak. But they, they do not! They are demons! They aren’t capable of such things as love.”

Lo’ak’s ears drew back to press up against his skull and his lips drew up to show off his pointed fangs, a very loud hiss escaping from between his teeth. The hiss sounded almost roar-like, drawing attention from inside the Sully mauri, ears and tails perking up in interest.

Another gasp escaped from Neytiri’s throat. Her son had never hissed at her like that. Sure he had hissed at her playfully when he was younger or out of annoyance whenever she tried to get him to open up to her. But he had never hissed at her so…possessively. The only time she had heard a roar like this was when her husband was fighting off Quaritch during the Great Battle and he threatened everything he worked so hard to build during his time in the Avatar program.

“They do! She loves me. She’s capable of it and so much more. But you are too stubborn and stuck in your ways to see her the way I do. She cares for me, loves me. That I know,” Lo’ak grumbled out, fangs seeming to get even longer as he brewed in his anger. “I see her and she sees me. Something you and Dad never do,” he finished, turning away from his Mother as he reached out to grab the final thing he needed for his ride to you.

“What do you mean, Lo’ak?” Neytiri asked, anger laced in her voice. She knew what he was insinuating, but she needed to hear it come from his mouth. To confirm her suspicions. To confirm or deny what she had been thinking for years.

“I mean that she is mine. She is the only thing that I was ever able to have. I see her. She has taken me heart, body, and soul,” he slightly hisses out, not daring to look at his Mother as he spoke. He knew that once the confession of his sins slipped from his lips, there was no telling what his Mother would do. He didn’t want to be in the crossfire once she decided to act upon whatever she was feeling, her not being a top priority in his life at the moment. You were the priority and he’d be damned if anyone stopped him from getting to you.

“No,” Neytiri whispers, “You did not. Tell me you didn’t!”.

There were many things that his Mother could be referring to, but he was pretty sure he knew what she was hinting at. It was something that he had planned on doing with you once he properly courted you and way further into the future. But, nothing ever goes according to plan in Lo’ak’s life. The first time you guys had engaged in such an act was months before you were taken hostage. You had never been to the Tree of Souls, it being nearly impossible for you to get to without proper assistance. Lo’ak had decided to take you to it as a surprise on your weekly date night. The two of you had been dating for a while but never went as far as kissing or wondering hands against skin. It all happened so fast. One minute Lo’ak was describing the connection to you, how it all worked and the next, you were under him squirming and calling out his name in pleasure. He knew that once such an act was done, he’d be tied to you forever. That in the eyes of the Great Mother you two were mates and forever bound to one another’s souls. After that, the two of you often found yourselves engaging to be together. Lo’ak felt as if it was another way he could feel connected to you without being able to perform tshaleyu. He never took the act for granted and always put your pleasure before his, worshiping every inch of your body before you could do the same to him.

Her sons silence was Neytiri’s answer resulting in her loudly hissing at her youngest son, almost matching Lo’ak’s moments prior. That was the final straw to have Jake interfere between his arguing son and wife.

“You gave yourself to her? To a demon? Agh! Shame! You have brought shame upon this family and yourself. You tainted yourself with a human. Someone who can’t give you a future!” She yelled out, angry tears running down the expanse of her cheeks. Intercourse before mating wasn’t something that was taboo in the Omatikaya culture, but it was expected of the Olo’eyktan and his family to save themselves before then, demonstrating their loyalty to the people and their future spouse. So to hear her son, the second born of the Olo’eyktan, engage in such an intimate act with a human nonetheless, made her want to pluck his eyes out from the sockets that held them.

“Woah! Woah! Hey!” Jake said, jumping in between his son and wife before either of them could jump at each other's throat. His front faced Neytiri while his back faced his son. “Hey! What’s going on?” He gently asked, bringing his wife’s face into his hands as he tried to get her to focus his attention on him and not Lo’ak.

“Your son has mated with a demon!” She spat out, disgust interlaced in her tone. The way she felt towards the situation was evident enough on her face. Her lips were drawn back to flash her fangs and her nose was scrunched as if she just smelt a pile of Palulukan dung.

Jake froze at the words his wife spat, eyes darting to his son behind him. Although he froze at the words, he wasn’t surprised. He had a feeling that you and Lo’ak were more than just friends. He often caught his son gently rubbing at the marks you left on his skin during dinner, a smirk dancing across his youngests lips. Jake’s not stupid. He was Lo’ak’s age once and understood the urges he faced. But, he was human then and the Na’vi have a completely different way of thinking and going about things like this.

Jake didn’t question Lo’ak about whether or not what Neytiri said was true, already knowing the answer. He only sighed in response and tried to coax his wife to calm down.

“Go back in the house, son. Now,” Jake demanded, shooting him a look that told him he wasn’t taking a no for an answer.

Lo’ak wanted to argue and continue with his plan on rescuing you, but he knew that his pleading would be worthless, especially after his confession. So, he begrudgingly desaddled his ilu and made his way into the pod, ignoring the looks of his siblings as he made his way to his side of the house, throwing something against the woven wall before settling down in the corner. Tears left his eyes as he sat there. He was frustrated. All he wanted to do was see and hold you, but it seemed as if Eywa wasn’t on his side once again.

Why Great Mother? Why do you do this to me?

His heart further broke at the fact that you, yet again, slipped through his fingers. It seemed as if the whole universe was against the two of you. But, the universe be damned. Lo’ak was going to get you back no matter what it took. He’d burn down villages for you, destroy planets for you. He’d do anything for you.

———

“They found out?” A soft voice asks, pulling Lo’ak out from his zoning out episode.

He only hummed in response, eyes puffy from all the crying he did that night. His Mother screamed and cried at him after she talked to Jake, calling him what everyone else does, a disappointment. He desperately tried to get her to understand how he felt about you and how much he cared for you. He wouldn’t fall in love with just anyone, so you had to be very special to be the one to hold his heart.

Neteyam had been the one to comfort him that night as Jake and Kiri consoled Neytiri, trying to get her to calm down so she didn’t disturb any other Metkayina trying to sleep or seek shelter from the storm. It had been the first time in years that Neteyam had held Lo’ak in his arms, turning him away from the sight of their Sa’nok as the elder practically held the younger in his lap. Neteyam felt bad that their Mother was acting like this. Like she too hadn’t fallen in love with a tawtute. No matter how long Jake stayed on the planet and mingled with the natives, he would always be a human at heart. It’s hard to break out of old habits and it seemed as if their Father began to fall back into his sky people ways as of recent.

( “It’s okay, tsmukan,” Neteyam had whispered, Lo’ak barely hearing over the dramatic wails of his Mother. The boy had long been done with his crying, just blankly staring at the anklet wrapped around his foot. The last remaining thing he had of you.

“She doesn’t understand,” the older brother continued, stroking Lo’ak’s braids with such a gentleness, he thought for a second that it was you who was holding him. He only ever experienced such a gentle touch with you. It felt wrong that it wasn’t. That it was coming from his brother and not you.

“She does not,” Lo’ak confirmed, burying himself further into his brothers body, actively seeking his warmth to combat the shaking of his own body. “She never will,” he continued, eyes hardened to a glare as he stared at the intricately woven floor. She will never understand, he thought to himself, anger and sadness erupting in his chest. )

“A lot of the people heard your Mother last night,” Tsireya spoke up, sitting next to the dark blue boy. She felt bad for the teen. To be in love with someone you could never have must be heart wrenching. “I am sorry she acted the way she did. I hope she soon comes to the realization that you do truly love her,” she continued, trying to offer up the best comfort she could.

“I don’t think my Dad cared. Probably already knew before I told them. But,” he croaked out, voice coming out coarse as a result from his crying the night prior, “He didn’t do anything to stop Mom from saying those things about her, about me.”.

Having his Father allow his wife to continually insult his lover and him had made Lo’ak bitter. How come he wasn’t able to defend the one he loved but it was alright for Neytiri to throw such hurtful words to her own son? It all seemed hypocritical, backwards.

Tsireya frowned at Lo’ak’s words. She truly felt bad for him. She didn’t think that it was fair for his own Mother to react that harshly to the news. Didn’t she too fall in love with a human? It didn’t make sense to her.

“Oh, Lo’ak, I’m so sorry,” she whispered out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder in hopes to comfort him.

Nothing about this situation was ideal. Lo’ak wasn’t able to go and rescue you from the clutches of the RDA. Neytiri had scolded and reprimanded her youngest son for being in love, calling him all sorts of colorful names in the process. Jake hadn’t done anything to prevent his wife from her onslaught of scowls and hisses towards their son. The whole clan now probably knew about how Lo’ak was a sky demon lover. And Tsireya is the one comforting the boy when it should be his own family that we’re bringing him solace. It all became a mess so fast, everything crumbling down towards the ground within seconds.

Lo’ak only hummed in response to Tsireya’s sympathetic tone, too tired to give her an actual response. His eyes were bloodshot from all the tears he’s expelled over night. Lo’ak’s face was practically swollen from how hard he cried last night. He looked like a complete mess.

Eywa had to be punishing him for something for the deity that he grew up hearing about wouldn’t have allowed any of this to happen. Was it really that bad that Lo’ak loved you? That he loved a human? Surely the Great Mother held all of her children dear to her heart. So, why was she letting this happen? What was the bigger picture? What was the reason? Lo’ak wanted to know the answers to these questions so he could figure out why it was so wrong to love you when it felt so right to.

———

Pain spread throughout your lower back and hip, becoming warm as the nerve endings communicated with each other and the crushed blood cells came to the surface of your delicate skin. The minute Spider hijacked the ship and the vehicle surged forward, your body made harsh contact with the metal table in the middle of the room and the floor once it crashed amongst the jagged rocks.

“(Y/N)! You okay?” The human boy yelled out, scrambling up to his feet to get to your position against the floor.

A groan was your only answer, pulling yourself up the best you could before the soldiers and ship crew could grab you. You could feel the bruises already forming on your soft skin, heat spreading throughout the areas.

“Get them off the ship!” A voice demanded, catching your attention. Your heart dropped to your stomach upon hearing the words. They were going to take you somewhere farther from Lo’ak once more. Although you hadn’t gone down with Spider to see him and the others being held hostage at the front of the ship, you still didn’t want to be taken somewhere else where you most likely wouldn’t be able to see him again.

Hands wrapped themselves around your biceps, roughly pulling you up from where you kneeled, guiding you to the exit.

“Let go of me!” You hissed, ripping your arms from out of the strangers grip just in time to catch the mask being thrown at you by another.

“Put it on,” they demanded, putting on their own mask before looking at you as you put yours on, a scowl on your face as you did so.

The same person pushed you forward in front of them, urging you to walk forwards and down the metal stairs. You desperately wanted to push whoever was in front of you down the stairs and run towards wherever they were keeping Lo’ak and the rest. You only wanted to see him and make sure that he was okay. That he was still breathing.

“Make sure it’s tight,” a man commented, tugging on the side of your mask.

“She’s fine, dumbass,” Spider spat, pushing the man’s hand away from your masked face, putting himself between the man and you.

The man before you both scoffed and continued forward, leading the two of you somewhere on the ship where they kept their smaller boats.

Spider could sense your apprehension, grabbing your hand as the group of you continued to walk along the metal surface of the ship, shaking his head down at you as he dragged you besides him. He knew what you wanted to do, he wanted to do the same, but he knew that if you gave into that urge, they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot either of you on the spot. He needed to keep you safe not just for Lo’ak’s sake but for himself too. You were his lifeline throughout this whole awful experience. Your presence itself helped him in more ways than one whenever he felt himself start to slip through the cracks while with Quaritch and Ardmore. If the two of you were going to make it out this afternoon, he needed you safe and alive.

Another man had exclaimed for the group to hurry up before the last of the boats left without them, getting cut off at the end of his sentence with a sharp exhale and groan as his body was thrown up against the wall of the ship.

Two large blue bodies had dropped down from above, pushing and punching the human men surrounding you and Spider, effectively killing them as they jumped from body to body.

“Lo’ak,” you whispered out, Spider pulling your back into his chest, away from Neteyam and Lo’ak, being wary of their size and strength.

A smile painted itself across your lips once the familiar amber eyes you dearly missed made contact with your colorful ones, time seemingly coming to a halt as the both of you took in each other's presence.

Lo’ak seemed to have filled out a bit, his biceps and thighs much larger than they were the last time you saw them. His hair was pulled back, showing off his sharpened jawline and defined shoulders and collarbones. Back in the forest, he rarely ever had his hair up, preferring it down so your fingers could have easy access to them whenever you wanted to run your smaller hands through the braids. His midsection seemed slimmer and tighter, displaying his developing abs along his stomach. Lo’ak seemed more confident in his physique as he stood there in front of you. You could practically feel it oozing off of him. The reef clan must’ve prioritized his training during his stay, you concluded.

As you gawked at the significant changes to your boyfriend's physical body, he too had his eyes glued to your figure.

Although much hadn’t changed, you still looked beautiful as ever. You had your hair down, different from your typical braid or usual hairstyle. You deemed having your hair out of your face more practical during your time in the forest. It just made everything easier as you explored and ran about. Due to Ardmore’s negligence to your physical needs, you figured it was easier to have your hair down most of the time, having no energy to do it yourself when she gave you a break from her torturous pursuits. Your hair had gotten longer during your time away from each other, inches longer than it previously was. It framed your face beautifully Lo’ak thought, smiling at you.

But before either of you could run to each other and embrace, a soldier had begun to stir and get up, a gun clutched in his grasp.

Lo’ak whipped his head towards the noise, bringing up the gun in his right hand up without thinking, finger squeezing the trigger as multiple rounds of bullets penetrated the human in front of him. The man slumped back, falling dead to the floor.

The air then became tense, the moment processing in everyone’s head for a second. Then, Neteyam had gently grabbed Lo’ak’s forearm and urged him forward, walking backwards as Spider pushed you in front of him, following the Na’vi boy.

The two boys in front of you had effortlessly jumped down from the top of the stairs to the ground below, swiftly standing up from their crouch afterwards. Sensing your hesitation, Lo’ak wrapped his free arm around your waist and followed after his brother and Spider, holding you close to his side as he jumped down from the height. He only let go of your waist once you regained your bearings.

“Hello, ma sìlpeytsyìp,” Lo’ak whispers, free hand going up to your bare neck, softly grazing his thumb against the delicate skin.

“Hello, Lo’ak,” you whisper back, a smile on your face as you gazed at your lover. Oh how you wished you didn’t need this stupid mask so you could capture his lips with yours.

You missed the boy in front of you so much. It was hard to endure all those months away from each other. He consumed every single thought you had. So to have him in front of you, alive and breathing and not a figment of your imagination, made you want to crawl into his large arms and stay there forever.

Your small moment was interrupted by Spider, him exclaiming a thank you so much man as he turned towards the Na’vi teens.

Lo’ak had tore his eyes away from yours, staring at Spider as he thanked him and Neteyam for saving both of your asses back there. The blue boy smiled at his friend, going to express his welcome but his smile dropped as he saw the same Avatar soldiers from that night come into view, aiming their guns towards the group of teens.

As Lo’ak perked up to shoot at the familiar fake Avatars, Neteyam pulled him back just as quickly, ushering him and the lot of you to run and dodge the bullets as they fired and ricocheted off the railings and other obstacles between you and them.

“Go! Go!” Neteyam exclaimed, pushing the three of you towards a corner by the moonpool, snatching Lo’ak’s gun with a give me that!.

The older Na’vi began to shoot back at the soldiers shooting at you four, shouting at all of you to hurry and jump into the water beneath the opening in front of you. Before you could process Neteyam’s words, Lo’ak took you into his arms and rushed towards the moonpool, jumping over the railing and into the water. Cool water splashed against your body and sealed mask, making you involuntarily hold your breath as a reflex.

Upon breaching the surface, you exhaled the air you held, realizing that there was no need for you to hold it.

“That was insane cuz!” Lo’ak exclaimed, high-fiving Spider as he hollered back an excited hell yeah!. His arm around you had slipped from its grasp in order to hand out the high-five he gave Spider.

The three of you just narrowly escaped death and Lo’ak was hollering in delight from the adrenaline rush. Well, you thought, at least the sea didn’t change that about him.

The hairs on your skin stood on end once you heard the gurgle of Neteyam’s first gasp of breath after following you and the boys, diving into the water. Your body instinctively knew that something bad was bound to happen and you could only pray to Eywa that this wasn’t happening.

Everyone’s world stopped on its axis once Neteyam announced that he’d been shot, struggling to keep himself upright in the water. It was as if his own acknowledgment of being shot stripped him of his refined swimming skills, limbs not being able to keep up with the blood loss and shock of the event.

You were the first one by the boys side after the words fell from his lips, trying to help keep him afloat in the water. “It’s okay, Teyam,” you whispered, head barely above the water's surface as you kept the boy upright, “You’ll be okay.”.

You knew that your words were only empty promises. That realistically, Neteyam wasn’t going to make it. No amount of comforting whispers were going to cover up that fact or bring the boy some kind of solace from death's icy grip.

“Here! Get him up on here,” an unfamiliar voice exclaimed, drawing your attention from Neteyam to the owner.

A beautiful Na’vi girl had broke the surface of the water with a strange creature by her side. She gestured for you and the rest to get Neteyam up onto the animal so you could transport him somewhere where he could be helped.

The strange girls eyes fell on you, making your stomach drop and breath hitch in your throat. She must be of the clan that harbored the Sully family, you thought to yourself as you studied her much lighter blue skin and enchanting ocean blue eyes. Really pretty too.

“C’mon bro,” Lo’ak stuttered out, taking Neteyam out from your grip and into his, swimming towards the girl and her creature.

Spider had pulled you out from your stupor, tugging on your hand as he swam the both of you towards the group, grabbing the side of the creatures saddle as it readied itself to surge forward in the water. The boys hand had let go of your hand and went to grab your waist, pulling you flush to his side in preparation for the resistance of the water once the creature got the okay to take off. Your own hands wrapped themselves around Spider’s neck, muscles in your arms tightening in preparation as well.

Once Lo’ak situated Neteyam onto the creature behind him, he urged the animal to go forward through the bond, it hurriedly gliding through the water as it pushed against the current and new added weight on all sides.

You knew that once the five of you left the scene and headed towards somewhere else, everything was going to change. That it was all downhill from here.

———

Your hands were caked in blood. In Neteyam’s blood.

The red substance ran up your wrists and stopped at your mid forearm. The skin that was covered in it felt like it was on fire. It burned.

Your small hands that were desperately trying to slow down the blood pouring out of the boys chest were replaced by Lo’ak’s, his bigger body pushing you out of the way once Jake noticed your useless efforts and demanded his second son to replace your hands with his.

Tears spewed out from your waterline, falling down your cheeks and gathering at the bottom of your mask. Your throat burned from your suppression of sobs, desperately trying to escape from your sealed lips. You didn’t feel worthy crying and sobbing over the fatally injured boy in front of you. It was your fault he was shot. Indirectly or not, if Neteyam and Lo’ak didn’t come back for you and Spider, then he’d be fine and not bleeding out in front of his family. He wouldn't be laid dying in front of you.

You felt familiar, calloused hands wrapped themselves around your frame, bringing your body into their own.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Spider lowly whispered, bringing your face into his neck as you let out a quiet sob, leaning into his embrace. He knew that you were on the brink of breaking down and knew that you were keeping it in so as to not disturb the Sully family in their growing mourning. He saw the way Lo’ak pushed his way between you and Neteyam’s dying body, replacing your hands with his own against his brothers open chest. He knew that no one else around you would comfort you in the way that you needed, so he scurried to your side and brought you into his arms for the comfort that you craved.

You’ve never seen someone die. You’ve never seen someone die right in front of you. Your brain was scrambling to gather itself and process what was happening. But it was as if your brain couldn’t gather all the working pieces it needed and abandoned you in your own body, leaving you to pick up the pieces yourself and try to process what was happening.

Your body began to shiver as shock and adrenaline coursed through your veins, making your quiet sobs even harder to contain and actually keep silent.

The minute your ears picked up on Neytiri’s high pitched wails and screams, you knew that Neteyam had taken his last breath and finally joined Eywa in his afterlife. From that moment on, everything went by in a flash.

Neytiri, Jake, and Spider had left back towards the ship for a reason your ears didn’t pick up on, still ringing in the aftershocks of Neytiri’s screams. The Na’vi woman left on her ikran, it screeching as she made tshaleyu. The both of them took off in a blur from the speed of the animals ascent. Spider left you with a gentle kiss on the forehead and a promise that he’ll come back, smoothing down your damp hair before following after Jake. And Lo’ak. He only spared you a small glance before telling the reef Na’vi girl to stay with Neteyam’s body, gently patting her cheek before he hurried off to follow his Father and Spider.

Even though your mind struggled to process and piece together what just happened, it was still able to process the soft touch Lo’ak bestowed upon the girl in front of you and the sympathetic look he gave her before he left. How she reached out for him as he walked away and the look on her face as she watched. Oh.

Your heart broke at the realization. Lo’ak finally found someone that was suitable for him. Someone that was able to give him the future he deserved. Someone that was able to give him everything you couldn’t. And more tears fell from your eyes, heart crying out at the heartbreak.

Neytiri was right. You should’ve stayed with your own kind.

———

You didn’t stay long for Neteyam’s funeral. As soon as it ended, you treaded your way out of the water and walked somewhere secluded.

It was too much being there. It was hard watching Jake and Neytiri place their eldest son down onto the orange glowing tendrils. It was hard watching him be absorbed by them, disappearing into the glowing mass. Guilt riddled your consciousness, yelling at you that you shouldn’t be there. That it was your fault that he was with Eywa now. That you took away Jake and Neytiri’s firstborn son from their grasp too soon. You felt that your presence itself was a reminder as to why Neteyam was no longer breathing.

So, you sat yourself in a secluded area on the small island, situating yourself between the large rocks that perfectly hid your smaller frame. You didn’t want anyone disturbing you, especially Lo’ak. You didn’t think you’d be able to face him again after tonight.

“You suck at sneaking away, you know that right?” A soft voice spoke out, making you jump in response from its abrupt reveal. You had been sitting in silence for a couple of minutes before you were interrupted.

Turning your head, you saw Kiri standing there, face still painted in the white substance her Mother lathered onto her face before attending her elder brother's funeral. She held a small smile in your presence, leaning down to properly sit by your side.

You only hum and nod your head in response, turning your gaze back towards the lapping waves against the soft sand of the shoreline. You felt unworthy of the girl's presence. Like you shouldn’t stare at her for too long or else Eywa would strike you down with lightning for it. Unworthy of still being her friend even after what had occurred hours prior.

“I do not blame you, (Y/N),” she spoke up, large amber eyes glued to the side of your face. “None of us do. It was not your doing for what happened that night. You were not the one with the gun,” she continued, her blue five-fingered hand coming to rest up against your shoulder in comfort.

Growing up, Kiri always knew what you were feeling by just seeing the expression on your face. It was a bit weird growing up. She knew what you felt even before you could process it yourself. But, oftentimes, you were grateful for someone like Kiri. For someone who knew you so deeply that they didn’t need words to confirm how you felt. She just knew.

Kiri did truly mean the words she spoke. She did not think that Neteyam’s death was yours nor Spiders' doing. You two were just kids who were taken hostage and desperately needed saving. You are just kids. Your whole lives were a cause of an unfortunate event but that doesn’t mean that everything bad that happens to her family and to the other natives of Pandora were solely you and Spider's fault. The two of you shouldn’t carry that heavy burden.

“But, if Lo’ak and Neteyam didn’t come after us – ” you sputtered, tears already welling in your waterline as your throat began to tighten with emotion.

The Na’vi girl knew where you were coming from. What your thought process was and how you felt. A perk of being one of your good friends she supposed.

“But nothing, (Y/N),” she cut you off, voice firm and absolute. There was no way you were going to change her mind about the situation at hand. It wasn’t your fault. Period.

“Neteyam and Lo’ak chose to come after you and Spider. They both knew of the consequences that came with following after you. No one except Quaritch and his men are to blame,” she said with finality, not needing you to further intrude on what she said. No matter how hard you’d try to convince her that it was your fault, she wouldn’t believe you. Her mind had already been made up and you weren’t the one to blame.

Only more tears began to gather and spill from your eyes at your friend's words. It was nice to hear that she, and most likely everyone else, didn’t blame you for what happened. But it didn’t help ease the guilt you felt. Nothing could aid in the guilt you felt deep within. Perhaps with time it would go away, but even then, you highly doubted that.

“Lo’ak still loves you if that is what’s causing this worry,” Kiri whispered out, only loud enough for you to hear just in case anyone else was wandering around.

During their stay at Awa’atlu, Kiri could tell that your absence had deeply disturbed her younger brother. It was evident in everything he did. Lo’ak always had a frown on his face and found excuses to pick fights with Ao’nung and his gang of friends. It was like he didn’t have a reason to behave accordingly or live anymore. Like his sense of self was lost when you were taken by Quaritch and his soldiers. He desperately missed you and she could tell that the only thing he wanted to do was get you back and have you in his arms once again.

Your stomach turned in knots and your heart stopped at Kiri’s comment. Did he really? What about the girl that helped you that night?

“I – I’m not too sure about that. What about the girl?” You asked, face damp with tears. You saw how Lo’ak treated her that night. How he gently put his hand on her cheek and how she reached out for him with a call of his name before leaving the both of you on that rock with Neteyam’s body. How he barely spared you a glance before leaving.

You were confident that he had finally found the one the Great Mother had destined him to be with. You knew that your time together was limited, the clock starting the minute you confessed your feelings to the teen boy. It broke your heart seeing him act that way with her but you knew that he’d eventually come to his senses about you and want to pursue a Na’vi who could actually give him the future he deserved. If anything, you were pleased that he found someone like him. He would no longer be held back by you.

“What? What girl? What are you talking about?” Kiri asked, shock and concern laced within her voice. She knew that Lo’ak was too in love with you to look at anyone else the way he looked at you. So your words confused her immensely. Why did you think he no longer saw you?

The blue girl ransacked her brain for the girl you were insinuating Lo’ak was into. She kept drawing blanks, until her mind settled onto the one person that was a great comfort to Lo’ak during their stay.

“You mean Tsireya?” She asked, a barely audible giggle coming out of her mouth.

To be frank, Kiri found the situation a little funny. Lo’ak was such a lovesick puppy for you that he often refused to talk to anyone who wasn’t you. He continuously asked about you before the two of you got together, always bothering Kiri as she made her way back from the lab. He also handmade many jewelry pieces for you, even if he sucked at it and needed Tuk’s help. Why would you think his affections would change that fast?

“She’s pretty,” you hum, eyes still glued on the moving waves in the distance. Really pretty. “She’s good for him, Ri. She’d be able to give him the future he deserves. Plus, Neytiri would actually like her. It was never in the cards for us,” you finished, voice now eerily calm and void of the sadness you expressed earlier.

Kiri’s mouth fell agape at your words, eyes widening to the size of yovo fruit. What the fuck?

“(Y/N), you cannot mean that. Tsireya and Lo’ak are only friends. That’s all,” she began, trying her best to save you from your overwhelming thoughts before they consumed you whole. “He still loves you. Please believe that,” she pleaded.

You finally tore your gaze from the water and up towards the glowing amber orbs of your friend. “He left me there, Kiri. All alone with no goodbye. Barely even glanced my way before he followed after Spider and Jake,” you confessed, heart breaking all over again at the memory. It was hours before they all returned to the rock. Spider was the only one to comfort you as Lo’ak was too busy with Tsireya. The rest of the family barely even spared you a glance as they pulled each other into an embrace.

Oh, Kiri thought, ears pinning to the sides of her head. Did she interpret Lo’ak and Tsireya’s body language wrong? Were they more than friends?

Neither of you uttered another word, sitting peacefully side by side as the two of you listened to the soothing sound of the lapping waves against the shore. A war was occurring within your head and walls were built to protect you from the oncoming grenades you were sure would be thrown at you by your lover once he confessed that he was no longer in love with you. If you could even call him yours anymore.

From afar, the subject of your conversation was watching the two of you converse. He so desperately wanted to run to you and gather you into his arms and keep you there forever. But, he knew that you were no longer his. He saw how Spider treated you so gently. How he placed a kiss on the crown of your head before scurrying away to lead Jake to the ship. How he was the first one to comfort you when they arrived, beating him in embracing you and soothing you as you sobbed against his bleeding chest. And even though his heart was breaking at the possibility of you no longer loving him, he only wanted you to be happy and if that was with Spider, then he’d let you go.

———

Days had passed since your conversation with Kiri. She had never left your side since, wanting to be there for you as you navigated your grief and heartbreak. Your words still stunned the poor girl. She was sure that you were wrong but she would admit that it was awfully suspicious the amount of times she saw Lo’ak and Tsireya together. And always seeing them together, especially after you pointed it out, didn’t help. Kiri was so sure of her brothers love for you that she nearly laughed in your face once those words left your mouth. But, she too began to doubt the affections her younger brother held for you.

Kiri often spent most of her time around you, but during the times she wasn’t able to, Tuktirey had no problem keeping you company.

“No! You’re doing it wrong,” Tuk exclaimed, groaning over your lack of weaving skills.

The young girl had been attempting to teach you the new way of weaving she had learned during her time on the island. She was so excited to show you what she had learned over the months that she nearly crushed your smaller, human body in a tight hug upon hearing your agreement. The young girl profusely apologized when she heard your panicked wheeze against her collarbone, quickly getting to work after.

“I’m sorry, TukTuk. Weaving’s never really been my thing,” you apologize, gently smiling at the child next to you. She was so excited to show you how to weave the Metkayina way, her eyes practically glowed in excitement once you agreed.

“It’s not your fault, (Y/N). I struggled with it too for some time. It just takes practice,” she responded, a large gummy smile directed your way. “Plus, that just means I can make you more!” She added, trying to lift up your dampened mood.

It seemed as if everything bothered you these days. Like everything was a reminder as to why you’d never be good enough for the secondborn Omatikaya prince. A reminder of the things you couldn’t give Lo’ak. Of the things you couldn’t do to please your mate. Weaving was a huge part of the Omatikaya culture, allowing one to express their gratitude and affection towards their intended. Something that you lacked severe skill in. Sure you could make a few bracelets here and there but it was nothing compared to those of the native Omatikaya who put so much effort into their weaving, going as far as making their own unique weave pattern for their beloved. Even though you wanted to refuse Tuktirey’s plea, for it was another painful reminder that you could never have Lo’ak, you still accepted it and endured the emotional turmoil you experienced. You wouldn’t allow your own feelings to stump Tuk’s happiness and eagerness to share with you something new she learned.

“You can make me as many as you want, Tuk,” you replied, a small smile gracing your lips as you gently patted her head, ruffling her hair in the process. The young girl shrieked at your action, pushing your hand away from her freshly braided hair, giggling afterwards.

You desperately missed moments like these during your captivity. You missed playing around with the Sully children and hearing Tuk’s high pitched giggle as she ran away from your hands as you reached out to tickle her. You missed Kiri’s wise words as she spoke about whatever came to mind. You missed Lo’ak’s comforting embrace as he enveloped you into his arms whenever you needed it. You missed Neteyam’s kind nature, helping you out whenever you found yourself falling behind. You’d always miss Neteyam, his absence another reminder as to why you would never be enough for the one you loved.

A loud cough from the doorway of the marui pod broke you and Tuk out of your giggling fit, both of you whipping your heads to the figure standing in front of the opening. Your heart dropped at who was in front of you.

“Mom!” Tuktirey squealed, jumping up to her feet and towards her sa’nok.

You could tell that Neytiri wasn’t excited about your presence, her hardened glare never leaving your face even as she bent down to embrace her youngest child. Over the course of the days following Neteyam’s funeral, Neytiri was colder towards you and Spider. She rarely ever let her children see you and often fought with Jake on this matter. She always argued about the same thing. How you and Spider weren’t good for her children. How the both of you deserved to be with your people. How you bring nothing but pain to this family. That if Jake never took the both of you in, they wouldn’t be in the position. You heard most of what she was yelling about almost every night, your shared guilt with Spider growing evermore.

“I…uh…I think I should get going Tuk. I just remembered that Kiri wanted to show me around somewhere,” you awkwardly said, smiling at the young girl before quickly heading out, barely giving her enough time to say her goodbyes to you.

You sped walk out from the Sully’s pod and onto the soft sand of Awa’atlu. You knew that you were no longer welcomed in Neytiri’s presence and you respected her wishes by excusing yourself and making your way out. It was the least you could do considering all that she went through.

Hours passed by with you sitting in the same place Kiri found you days prior, just thinking. Something that you found yourself doing way too often. It was hard to get out of your head and even harder for others to help you out of it. Most days, Spider wasn’t even able to help you with your problem and he almost always was able to save you from your own mind. Today was no exception regarding getting yourself stuck in your head and going around in circles.

“(Y/N)?” A soft voice asked, effectively pulling you out from your stupor.

Your eyes shifted from where they were glued to onto the person standing next to you, making your whole body tense and stomach churn in anxiety. Tsireya.

The light blue Na’vi girl stood in front of you with a look of concern etched on her face. Her skin was covered in a thin line of droplets, a clear sign she had just came back from a swim. You wondered if she felt bad for you and approached you out of pity. If Lo’ak had told her about your past together and if she was approaching you to inform you about their new union. If she was here to tell you about what her and the other Metkayina thought of you, preparing yourself for harsh insults and words.

“Are you okay?” She asks, sitting on her knees as she leaned forward a bit, big blue eyes practically staring into your soul.

Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. You were usually very careful in how your body reacted whenever you got stuck in thought. Always giving yourself time to release the tension in your body and relax before returning back to the thought you put on pause. So you were very confused as to why Tsireya was concerned with if you were okay or not.

“You just…seemed lost in thought.” She says, hands gently folding together in her lap. “I’ve noticed that your hair,” she points to your eyebrows, “come together when you’re thinking. Lo’ak does the same thing.”.

Your heart sped up at the mention of Lo’ak’s name, only for it to drop again once you realize who’s talking to you. Keep yourself in check (Y/N), you thought to yourself, you’re in the prescence of Lo’ak’s mate. Of course she knows things like that about him. You shouldn’t act like this.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine!” You reply, a half assed smile creeping up on your lips, not quite reaching your eyes like it usually does. There was no way in hell that you’d tell Tsireya what was going on inside your head. That wasn’t a burden she needed on her shoulders.

The girl didn’t look too convinced at your response but didn’t push it further. She only nodded and continued to look at you, big eyes studying your human features. Tsireya had rarely seen you around and when she did, it was very brief before you disappeared out of sight again. So she couldn’t help but look at you as you sat there. You were very pretty, she noted. No wonder Lo’ak fell so helplessly in love with her, she thought. Your beauty was something Tsireya had never seen before.

“Tsireya!” A gruff and deep voice shouted, catching the girls attention as she turned her back towards the voice. It was her Father.

“Oh. I’m sorry (Y/N), but I have to go. I do hope you feel better soon,” she quickly said before walking away, her tail swinging gently from side to side as she strides away.

The whole encounter you had with the girl made you even more confused and sad. She was so nice to you. She gave you no reason to hate her. But you couldn’t help but feel it as she left you there, longing for the life you could never have.

———

“You’re being so sulky,” Spider murmured, arms crossed as he watched you stare at your food in front of you.

Norm and Max had cooked dinner nearly two hours ago and you were the only one who hadn’t finished your plate. You didn’t have much of an appetite these days either. You were too occupied with thinking or trying to avoid Lo’ak at all costs to properly eat. You knew it wasn’t something you should be doing but you found yourself doing it anyway.

“You haven’t even talked to him! You don’t know if it’s true or not,” he continued, sick of seeing both you and Lo’ak moping around and avoiding each other at every turn. He’s told the both of you multiple times to just talk about it but the both of you were too stubborn for your own good.

You ignored Spider’s comment, rolling your eyes at the boy besides you. You really didn’t need him meddling in your business.

Your silence was Spider’s last straw as he slammed his hands against the metal table, surprising you and making you jump back at the action. Your plate shifted and jumped in its place, the fork clattering onto the floor.

“Fine. If neither of you want to talk this out on your own, then I’ll do it for you,” he exclaimed, jumping up from his seat and hauling you up from yours by your arm.

“Are you fucking crazy?” You screamed, trying to pry Spider’s fingers off of your bicep.

He only scoffed at your response and shook his head, leading you to the entrance of the lab that sat in the secluded parts of the island, tossing you a mask before shoving you out of the metal lab and out into the Pandora air.

Shortly after the events with Quaritch and the tulkun hunters, Norm and Max had decided that it would be best if they put one of their smaller labs on Awa’atlu for the two of you. It was definitely smaller than the lab you lived in at High Camp, but you didn’t complain. At least you had somewhere to go and hide whenever you didn’t want to see Lo’ak that particular day.

“You fucker!” You shouted, banging the flat of your palm up against the glass of the door. Spider only ignored your calls from the inside, eating your untouched food. You groaned in frustration as you watched the boy simply devour your cold food.

Rustling of leaves were heard from your right, making your heart stop in its confines in anxiety. Your breath hitched in your throat as you slowly turned your head to see who or what caused the noise, especially this late at night. Your stomach dropped to the floor once you saw those familiar amber eyes peek out from behind a shrub.

“Lo’ak?” You whispered, not trusting your voice at the moment.

Upon hearing your voice, the culprit perked up, completely revealing themselves to you.

“Yawne?” He asked, unsure if he should move closer to you or stay where he was. Lo’ak had been craving to be in your presence ever since his brothers funeral. He only wanted you in his arms again and even though he had you back, he didn’t completely have you.

The two of you stood there, in front of each other for a while, neither of you daring to move closer or speak up first.

It was strange to see you after not having seen you for months. You looked the same but didn’t at the same time. Lo’ak didn’t know how he didn’t notice the first time he saw you on that ship. You looked more mature. Like you had seen or experienced something you shouldn’t have.

“How are you?” Lo’ak asks, finally breaking the awkward silence between the two of you.

You internally scoffed at that question, shaking your head as you did so. Yeah, I’m totally fine. Leaving me with your dead brother for hours didn’t do anything to me at all.

“Fine,” you answer, beginning to try to open the lab door with all your might, shaking the lock. Spider must’ve locked it from the inside or something, you thought, promising yourself that you would choke the boy out once you got back into the lab.

Lo’ak flinched at your rough voice and repetitive shaking of the door, ears drawing downwards as he watched. He’s never seen you act so violent before. Never seen you so desperate to get back into the lab. Usually, back in the forest, you’d do anything and everything to stay out of the lab for as long as you could. So to see you act the opposite made Lo’ak frown, especially since it was because he was out with you.

“Yawne,” Lo’ak tried again, taking a step closer to you before quickly drawing back as you scowled at him to stay where he was. “What is wrong? Talk to me, please,” the boy pleaded, tail falling limp between his legs.

“I told you. Nothing. Nothing is wrong,” you replied, eyes never leaving the stupid handle of the door you were trying to pry open.

Lo’ak knew you were lying. Something was most definitely wrong. He could see it in your eyes. How badly you wanted to share whatever was bothering you but something withheld you from uttering the words. It made him ever the more desperate to get you to talk to him.

The boy knew that showing up at the lab unannounced wasn’t going to get you to talk to him, especially since he too was also ignoring your existence. That he’d have to try harder in order to get you to speak with him.

“Yawne –”.

“Stop! Stop calling me that! I am not your yawne!” You shouted, ceasing your prying of the locked metal door. Hearing that term come out of his mouth made you want to cry. It made you want to scream, kick, and hit him for calling you that when you knew that he called another it. He had Tsireya to be his yawne. That was no longer a title you held.

Confusion and hurt spread itself across Lo’ak’s face, brows furrowing together in confusion. What did you mean? Why were you no longer his beloved?

“Why? Why not?” He shouted back, anger quickly arising within the teen boy. “What have I done to make you angry with me?” He asked, ears drawing further downward and pressing harder against the side of his skull.

You wanted to pull at your hair in frustration and anger. You just wanted to go inside and pass out before having to face the Sully family again. You wanted Lo’ak to leave you alone in your heartbreak. To stop haunting your dreams. To stop reminding you of the life you longed to have with him.

“Nothing and everything, Lo’ak!” You screamed, finally fed up, “You have done nothing and yet have done everything to upset me. First, you leave me with Neteyam for hours. You left me alone with the body of someone who I loved. You left me alone in my grieving. I had to wash away the blood and grime from his body as you did what? Fight Quaritch? Get Spider nearly killed? Then…then you touched her so lovingly. So gently. When you barely even spared me a glance. You comforted her and hugged her so tight to yourself that I couldn’t tell where you started and she ended.”.

“I only wanted you to comfort me. To hold me as I cried. But you were too busy with her. And I understand, Lo’ak. I do. As much as it pains me to realize and say it. I know that you and Tsireya are together, a thing. It’s as obvious as the mask that I need. And it’s okay. Really. I knew that whatever this was, it wasn’t going to last. I am human and you deserve so much more than what I can give you. I cannot give you children, make the bond with you, or even be properly considered one of the People. You deserve someone who could give you that. Give you everything and more. I mean, Tsireya is Tsakarem for crying out loud! She is much more suited to be your mate than I am, Lo’ak.”.

By the time you were finished with your speech, your chest was rising up and down dramatically, trying to gulp down air as quickly as the mask would let you. You knew that once you expressed your feelings and how you felt, it would change everything. So in order to ignore Lo’ak’s intense gaze and to prevent yourself from succumbing to the need to cry, you began your attempts at trying to open up the locked door or at least trying to get someone’s attention so they’d save you.

Your hands began to hit the door again, switching to messing with the door handle after a couple of beats pass with no one coming to your rescue.

“I confessed.” Lo’ak blurted out, desperation covered his face. His ears were fully up in alert, twitching at the sound of your hands stopping against the hard metal of the lab.

You stopped your movements, standing on the stairs of the lab in shock, trying to process the words that just came out of the boy's mouth. Confessed? What did he mean by confessed?

He needed you to know that what you were saying wasn’t true. That he wasn’t seeing Tsireya and that he’ll never see her in that light as he sees you. That his heart only held love for you and no one else. That your entire being consumed him heart, body, and soul.

“I told my Mother about us. About our relationship. About how much I love you. About how much I adore and see you. About that night at the Tree of Souls. I told her everything,” he rambled, tears clinging to his waterline as he tried to hurriedly blink them away. “She wasn’t happy about it, obviously. But, I didn’t care. I still don’t. Tsireya and I have never and will never be a thing. My heart only beats for you. My lungs only breathe for you. My body and soul only long for you. Everything is only ever for you, ma yawne. I hold so much love for you that it hurts. Did you know that the afternoon I heard of a young boy and girl being held captive at the Ta’unui clan, I almost immediately took off on my ilu to get you back? That I fought with my Sa’nok over you? That’s when I told her. Everyone heard and I don’t care that they did. I would scream out my love for you on the highest floating mountain if you asked me to. I’d do anything for you, (Y/N). Please, please believe that.”.

Lo’ak took in deep breaths once he finished his speech, desperately trying to fill his lungs with air after depriving them of it. He hoped that what he said was enough to get you to see how he felt about you, how he still felt about you. And if you didn’t, then he’d try again and again and again until he ran out of air to breathe. He needed you in his life. He didn’t care that you couldn’t bare him children or make tshaleyu with him. All he needed was you and that would be enough for all of his lifetimes.

“Lo’ak,” you croaked out, hot tears running down your cheeks and gathering at the bottom of your mask. You had no idea that he felt that strongly for you. Sure he mentioned some things from time to time but he never seemed this serious about it. You could feel the emotions of his words as they hit you square in the face.

“I don’t care if you can’t carry my children or that you can’t make the bond with me. I don’t. I only care that you’re in my life and that you love me just as much. You have been such a big part of my life for so long that I can’t imagine you not in it. Nga yawne lu oer,” Lo’ak finally finishes, kneeling on his two knees to get to your height, gently taking your softer hands in his rougher one’s.

All of the doubts you had about yourself and the relationship you had with the boy in front of you vanished the moment he touched you. Like everything else disappeared and it was only you two in the world.

“I am so sorry if it seemed like I had any interest in Tsireya, my love,” Lo’ak whispered, bringing your hands up to his lips as he pecked them with a kiss, “To be honest, I thought Spider and you were a thing as well.”.

At his confession, you bursted out laughing, not being able to hold in your reaction to the ridiculous thought.

“I know, I know,” Lo’ak tsked, shaking his head, “I had asked Spider about it and he had the same exact reaction. He wouldn’t shut up about it either, telling me how ridiculous I was for thinking such a thing. As well as how much of an idiot I was too.”.

“Well,” you hummed, taking your hands out of your boyfriends and placed them onto his blue cheeks, “I guess we’re both idiots then.”.

Lo’ak chuckled at your response, shaking his head as he finally brought you into his arms, immediately burying his head into the crook of your neck as he got a sniff of your dearly missed scent. Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck as he held you close, almost completely enveloping you in his body.

“I’m sorry for assuming,” you speak up, fingers running through Lo’ak’s braids. You felt bad for immediately assuming Lo’ak would move on that fast and get with Tsireya. You knew it wasn’t something he’d do but your overwhelming insecurities took over.

The Na’vi boy only hums, burying his head farther into your neck. “It’s okay,” he said, “I did the same. Nothing to stress about now. I got you back and that’s all that matters”.

The two of you sat there for what felt like only minutes but was hours in reality. The sun had begun to poke through the horizon, sunrise vastly approaching.

“Wanna go inside? We could spend the morning sleeping and cuddling if you want,” you suggest, eyelids getting droopy as your lack of last nights sleep began to catch up with you. You shifted your head so it laid on Lo’ak’s shoulder, yawning as you did so.

Your lover only nodded in agreement, delicately moving into the small lab and removing your mask from your face, placing a kiss on your forehead as you began to snore in Lo’ak’s arms. He smiled down at you before making his way to your established room, content with how the night turned out.

As he gently laid you in the soft bed and tucked the both of you in, he knew that he’d gladly spend the rest of his life with you so as long as you pleased. That there was no one else but you that he truly saw himself with. The teen would do anything for you, no matter what it entailed.

[haobubbles]

REACTION: when they figure out you’ve hidden something from him

pairing: boyf!zb1 x gf!reader

genre: pure fluff

tw: excess of cuteness (😭), mentions of food

roxy speaks: PLEASE!! give me recommendations bc idk what to do anymore hahaha. i tried to make the title shorter (and the reactions too ngl) BUT i found out that’s not my talent!! enjoy🩷

also! dedicated to hao's bf @axiiyangs ily thank u for helping me :( <3

kim jiwoong - his dog keychain

we all know how much jiwoong loves and appreciates having a dog in his life. it’s his little companion, so, during their world tour and he went shopping with matthew to a local market, he found a keychain that slightly reminded him of his dog, so he decided to buy it.

since then, he’s been keeping it with his keys and he froze when he saw how the keychain was apparently gone. his first thought was a burglary, but he dismissed it when he realised nothing else from his set of chains was missing. only the keychain.

“hey, y/n, have you seen my keychain?” he asked when he came inside his room, seeng as you were lying on his bed.

“don’t you have it in your hands right now though?”

“i meant the dog keychain��� he made emphasis on the word dog, becoming a little bit impatient when a glint caught his eye.

smugly, he walked towards where you were lying, quickly pecking your lips, leaving you stunned by the randomness of his act. still frozen, you saw him walk away, holding the keychain with his hand as he had seen it behind you, when you faintly hear him say “you play again like this and you’re not seeing my dog for the next 4 months”

with a giggle, you rapidly walked to the bedroom’s door seeing him walking away facing you, smiling at your antics.

“i promise not to when you promise me you’ll get one similar for me!”

“you got it beautiful” he winked at you before disappearing from the dorm.

sung hanbin - your shared promise ring

it had been less than 5 months when hanbin decided to get you both promise rings as, after 4 years of relationship, he was sure there was not going to be anyone else in his life but you.

he had bought it as a surprise for your 4th anniversary and he had been wearing it ever since, well not always. when he performs on stage, besides having to wear the outfit and accessories his stylist chose, but he doesn’t wanna run the risk of exposing you both.

so, when he came home after a tiring day of pre-recording, he found it odd that you rushed him into the shower, but paid no attention to it. while you heard the water running, you took the chance to hide his ring, which was patiently waiting for its owner in his nightstand, in your pocket.

while rubbing the towel on his wet hair, he made his way to his wardrobe and after throwing on a comfy hoodie and his pyjama pants, he made an attempt to reach for where the ring should have been, only to find the black surface empty.

“oh no..” he muttered

“why? what’s wrong han?”

“i..i might have lost the promise ring. i promise i left it here this morning! maybe one of the guys too-yeah it was probably matt-but he wouldn’t do that he knows how much it means to me. he wouldn’t do it-“

“hey hey hanbin” you interfered when you realised his panic state. it surely wasn’t the reaction you were expecting “i’m sorry i wanted to joke around a bit but now i feel so bad..” you said in barely a whisper, holding out your hand with his ring.

“oh so it’s here! i didn’t lose it thank god” he sighed while taking you in his arms “i’m really sorry hannie..” “it’s okay but maybe you need to tone it down a little bit. a plushy or something but never! never this ring. it means too much for me”

“..you’re kinda making me feel wor-“ “OH MY GOD i’m so sorry i’ll shut up now” he kissed the top of your forehead and you stood trapped in his arms for a while, until yujin yelled for help with the on-going fight for the control of the tv remote.

it wasn’t what you were expecting for this afternoon, but at least no one got hurt, you said to yourself. a plushy will do next week, you thought.

zanghao - his violin bow

you were in a rush, and not in a “i have to run down the street” tye of a rush. you were trying to mischievously hide the bow of your boyfriend’s violin however, you were still stuck on where to hide it.

it had been days since you felt you had spent some proper quality time with hao, always busy with his packed schedule, and when he got home he practiced with his violin, leaving you all by yourself in the living room. you were fed up with it so you decided to take a part of his instrument in hopes that he’d finally notice his girlfriend.

still deep in thought, you heard a strange noise behind the door and later on you heard how someone was just opening the door. that someone was zanghao.

running to the furthest room from the door, you tried to hide the bow in the kitchen but, where?

“y/n! i’m home” you could hear from the living room.

worried about being caught, you decided to climb the counter to be able to reach the top shelf. what you didn’t have in your plans was, though, wearing socks. the moment you tried to stabilize yourself you slipped from the polished counter and while you felt your life slipping off your fingers, you felt two strong arms grab you.

just like in a movie, zanghao effortlessly helped you step on the floor, and before you could run away from embarrassment, he grabbed your wrist.

“you better have a good excuse for risking your life like that y/n.” was how his scolding started. he wasn’t very harsh with his words but you got the message loud and clear, he was just worried about the possibility of you ever getting hurt when he’s not around.

“i just..i’ve seen you act differently towards me these days because you were too focused with rehearsals and your violin so i tried to hide the bow..” you trailed off, head hung low, embarrassed to admit that you were jealous of a lifeless object.

“and it takes you risking YOUR LIFE to tell me?? you’re stupid” he said while grabbing your chin, making you look up at him “my stupid though. come on, let’s order food and catch up. by the way, you try any risky activity of this type again and i’m ending you before you have a chance yourself”

“i love you too, i guess?” you replied, making him giggle at how fast you could read between his words.

seok matthew - his microphone

it wasn’t an object that he often used, so when you organised a sleepover at your house with some friends, you decided to give it a good use and just place it where it initially was without anyone noticing.

however, today luck wasn’t on your side because matthew decided to sing a couple of ballads to you specifically, when he saw his mic wasn’t in the cupboard of the living room. in fact, it wasn’t in the dorm.

“y/nnnn. what did you do with the mic?” he asked with a hint of curiosity

“what do you mean? what mic-oh. isn’t it in the cupboard?” you wondered as you vividly remembered how you had left it there.

“it isn’t around the dorm at all. i’ve asked the guys and they have no clue. now tell me, where is it? have you hidden it??” he teased, having fun with your clueless “act”.

“no matt i swear i left it there in the cupboard”

“so you did take it!” he said, your silence to the response, assuring his prior statement.

“no ballads for you then” he declared, though when he saw you had no clue what he meant, he elaborated “i was going to sing you a couple of ballads with the mic, but as it’s apparently gone, there’s no ballads for you!”

“noo matt why are you so mean?!”

“bring me back my mic and we’ll talk about it. until then, no more ballads. or pop songs. NO MORE SINGING UNTIL I GET IT BACK”

even if he made you promise to not tell anybody, he did end up singing those ballads to you, regardless of the whereabouts of the microphone.

when you went back home, you realised it was on the sofa and you sent a photo to matthew, promising to bring it back the next day you meet.

kim taerae - his favourite book

it was another tranquil evening at your apartment where you were spending some time with your boyfriend and your little cousin, as your parents had to be the one taking care of the toddler but as soon as you told them tae was coming over, they left you the house for both of you.

taerae had just excused himself to go to the bathroom, leaving his book where he was sitting, when your cousin, who took the chance he had left, decided to hide tae’s book.

you were so lost in thought you couldn’t realise your cousin not paying attention to the tb characters anymore and her high-pitched giggles around the whole room.

when taerae came back, he found your little cousin sitting where he was before, and he quickly panicked thinking how she could have sat on his book. when he realised it wasn’t possible, with almost a whisper, he talked to the little girl.

“hello pretty. are you enjoying this episode?” when she nodded her head, he tenderly patted it with his left hand and added “i was wondering if you know where my book is? i left it here where you’re sitting right now, but it’s now gone”

“a book? no idea. you should maybe ask y/n!” she answered taerae with a giggle.

“oh i see..” and with a stronger voice he said “y/n! care to tell me where my book is?” he asked innocently while approaching you.

“what? it’s now where you left it?” you said absentmindedly, and taerae took it as a sign you were hiding it from him. with a long step, he leaned forward and started ticking you, asking for his book back.

“i…swear i..don’t know..where..it is!” you yelled in between laughs. while taerae didn’t let you get away from his grasp, your cousin silently went to look for the book, and when she came back, she jumped on taerae’s back “taerae live my cousin alone!! it’s here. your book is here see? now live her alone!” she stated, leaving you both quite startled with her confession.

he carefully put her down and when he looked at her, with her furrowed eyebrows because of the annoyance of him bothering you, he said to her “i’ll give you 3 seconds before you end up like your cousin”

and with that, all you could hear were screams and yells and constant footsteps from both, as your cousin was now fighting for her life or more figuratively, to not open the giggling box.

shen ricky - his black card

for you, taking ricky's black card wasn't a joke anymore, it was a challenge. you knew your boyfriend was the son of consumerism, always buying things and normally for everyone but him. you knew he could afford all of it, this lifestyle, but you wanted to see how long he could last without making any purchase at all.

the days kept passing though, and you hung out with ricky, you even went on dates, and everything was normal. he could still pay for things which made you think that it was possible that his dad gave him his own card, or maybe another one to use.

on a friday evening, away from his schedule, you decided to go on a fancy restaurant as you both were in new york because of your jobs. wobbling your leg, you felt more impatient as the time passed and it felt like a bomb was ticking inside your head. a bomb ticking to explode with the truth.

"so ricky, have you noticed something strange this week? or this month?" you said when you couldn't keep the secret anymore.

"..no? why though. was there something i needed to notice? has something happened? are you alright?" he asked preoccupied, holding your hand across the table.

"no no i'm fine. it's just that i don't know if you noticed that your black card was missing" you smiled at him feeling like a 5-year-old apologising to their parents.

he stood there unfaced and then, he only reacted "it's fine i just did a new one. can i know why you took it though?"

you blinked at him, not expecting him to dismiss it that fast "i just wanted to know how much you could last without buying anything"

the conversation between you continued as normal, skipping the fact of you hiding his own card from him.

"so..you pay for today right? i am kinda without a card because someone decided to take it.." he teased you when the waiter walked over to your table with the receipt. before you could take it seriously, he had already placed his new card on top of the table.

kim gyuvin - his funko pop

it had been a few days since you mentioned gyuvin his funko pop, curious about the importance of the toy to him. everytime you asked him the question 'what would you do if someone took your funko?' he first asked back 'do i see them taking it?'. when you replied with a no, he stated 'then i would open a police investigation' he said without a second thought.

trying to dare him, you decided to place it somewhere else around the dorm (yujin kept it in his drawer). when you both went to his room for some peace and quiet time together and he realised his treasure wasn't there, he turned around slowly.

he knew it was weird enough you had been asking him about his limited edition funko for the past week but it disappearing? something was definitely fishy.

now facing you, he wrapped his arms around you and just stood there embracing your figure. "so.. are you letting me go or you got a new idea of cuddling to show to the world?" you joked around however, when you felt him strengthening his grip around you, you whined and told him "gyu just let me gooo"

he shaked his head as a no, and then said "not until you tell me where the funko is"

let's just say you didn't jump out of the window because that involved both of you jumping. thatboy refused to let you go until you showed him (practically showing it in front of his face) that his funko was safe and sound.

cute cuddling session after! but with a new addition, his funko pop.

park gunwook - his chapstick

you don't know how many times you had asked gunwook to let you try his chapstick but he took his hygiene and the wellbeing of his skin too seriously, so he never let you try his, always telling you how he would buy the same one for you.

tired of that day never arriving, as it had been about 6 months from his promise, when you knocked on the door of his dorm and hanbin received you, saying how he still had about 5 mins. to arrive, you already know what to do.

what you didn't plan, though, was how long you were going to take to identify it. as he took his skincare very seriously, you may have forgotten how he actually owned about 40 to 50 chapsticks. just seeing the full drawer made your head spin, not knowing how to reference them between each other.

you tried to rummage through it (and put an order to it while you were at it), classifying them based on their colours. just when you were choosing based on the scent between the last four, gunwook walked inside his room, already knowing you were there because hanbin told him.

"y/nnn-what are you doing?" panic oozing of his voice when he saw all of his chapsticks on his desk

"i was just ordering them!" you assured before he could think anything else but he was a step ahead of you, already knowing what you were searching for.

"wait don't tell me you were looking for this" he pointed to the chapstick he had just gotten out of his front pocket. by the face expression you made, he could already guess he was right, so he burst into a fit of laughter.

"you're incredible please. you looked through all that to no avail" he continued laughing, your stoic face adding fuel to his current laughter. "okay no need to rub it in jeez.."

"sorry sorry i'll make it up to you kay?" he said while grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the entrance door of the dorm.

"where are we going?" you wondered, not expecting your boyfriend to answer as he loved to surprise you.

"to buy yours. duh. i promised it to you and it's been way to long" he kissed the back of your hand, still holding it on his, as a gesture of apologising for taking too long to fulfill his promise.

han yujin - his airpods

if there was one thing that drove you up the wall, it was the unnecessary times when your boyfriend used his airpods to annoy you while you were talking and pretending not to talk to you.

yujin is known for his playful personality but sometimes it got unbearable to feel alright when once a week, he made you feel like a burden by using his airpods.

sick and tired, you decided to talk to gyuvin to help you with the situation. you received a solution, although not what you expected. gyuvin told you to prank him back, plain and simple. he even said he'd help you with it.

that's how yujin's airpods ended up under gyuvin's pillow, in gyuvin's room, where gyuvin had  had strictly prohibited yujin from the entrance.

yujin's wittiness had helped him find out you had taken them from him and he knew you wouldn't take them somewhere he would have access. and that was the problem. he tried to talk it out with gyuvin, telling him how he would fix things with you and would never do it again but seeing how he didn't even bulge, he decided to use his plan b: blackmailing.

when he decided to innocently ask you for them, acting as he had no clue you had taken them away from him, he said “oh so you might not know here they are..guess there’s no facetiming while playing roblox until they appear”

"WHY? I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING THOUGH???" you protested

"i know but i can't just put the phone in speaker in the middle of the night, it would bother the others"

"since when do you care 'bout that?" you tsked.

you did, in fact, end up asking gyuvin to give them back because yujin had become insufferable enough to threaten you to kick you out of the dorms (jokingly, of course). then he shared his snacks with you while you two played together, pretending he was too full from what he had eaten with the members (spoiler: he had eaten some french fries) because he felt sorry for taking the payback a little too far.

after the deep conversation you two had, he surely wasn't going to repeat the scenario of the airpods. he would find something else to bother you with though, you could be sure of that.

[funkii4-blog]

SMG34 In 2024: A Recap Essay

(all text, no images aside from cover below)

This is extremely long since we got fed pretty well this year, so be prepared to read 3000 words of pure insanity from my silly little brain :))

14x01: Mario Opens A Can Of Beans

Not much to begin with as 3 appears very little in this episode, but about two thirds of the way through he's seen stopping by the castle to ask 4 if he can borrow some sugar. Which is funny since he literally owns a cafe next door to the castle lol

14x02: You Used To Be Cool

Oh boy, this one was a real kicker for being so early in the year, specifically for its second half.  

During the scene where 3 is attempting to torture Depresso, we get a short sequence of him thinking back on memories with his friends; playing Garry’s Mod with Mario, Meggy’s heart-to-heart with him in IGBP, and with 4... Snowtrapped?! This is of course the infamous episode from all the way back in 2016 in which the two got rather intimate with each other, so it’s wild that that is what he thought of with 4 first after everything they’ve been through together.

A little later, in an attempt to get 3 to show he’s still a villain (which he isn’t), Eggman tasks him with killing 4 as his final test. When 3 is told to do this, we can instantly see the unease and regret in 3’s reaction; and it’s made clear that he doesn’t want to do this. Over the last year's worth of episodes up to this point, 3 and 4’s bond had improved drastically; it’d been long established by this point that the two are friends now. 

We then see him in his room holding the gun shakily, visibly terrified; he knows he can’t do this, but he also wants to prove himself to Eggman and is torn. He has another sequence of looking back on memories with 4; the moment he finally declared they were friends at the edge of the Demon Pit, their sweet moment under the sunrise (sunset? Idk I just say it’s the morning following the casino heist) as he drew the two of them in his notebook, and as far back as during the Cosmology saga when they only first started to bond. 

He hits a practice target on his wall and starts boasting about how he “finally has a reason to kill that bozo”, but Eggdog is quick to confront what we already know: 3 cares about 4 and doesn’t actually want to hurt him. And while we can’t understand what Eggdog is saying, I think it’s pretty likely he was giving 3 a hard time about how he actually has a crush on 4, to which 3 ignores and leaves the room. 

Cut to the next day when 3 goes to perform the act; he walks into the kitchen where 4 is, raising the gun and saying a dark monologue (presumably knowing Eggman is listening in). He apologizes for this (something I highly doubt he would have done just a year before), and we get a cut to the window being splattered. We of course know he didn’t actually do it, but they still pull this fakeout on us; 3 actually shot the tomato meme that 4 had on the counter to trick Eggman. 

He says he was actually considering killing him “like usual” (which we know isn’t true anymore), to which 4 cries. Eggman then tries to attack the two of them; he initially aims at 3, who is unfazed by this. However, he switches his aim to 4, causing 3 to immediately panic and take down Eggman himself to avoid 4 getting hit. 

The episode ends with 3 setting his hand on the back of the still-crying 4, who is mourning the death of his tomato meme, as he monologues again; this time it’s about how he’s realized he doesn't need to prove how evil he is and that he’s happy with the people around him. 

14x03: CEO Of Rizz

4 doesn't appear in this episode, but I still wanted to note something in this one to come back to later. This episode is about 3 helping Boopkins with his televised date while trying to boost the cafe’s popularity, and there’s a scene early on where 3 goes over gift ideas. He ultimately settles on a creepy Mickey Mouse sculpture, claiming it to be a perfect gift to give a date. 

14x06: Trash Friends

This one also has a lot to cover, so buckle up ;)

3 is currently under a lot of stress, as his recently opened cafe is having a rough start and seemingly failing. 4 runs to him, also upset about supposedly losing an important endorsement he received. When 3 is confused, 4 proceeds to grab him by the face and pull him close in order to use his powers & project a memory of him losing the endorsement onto 3. He begs 3 for his help, claiming it’s because they’re friends and friends help each other.  

4 then urgently claims he needs this endorsement to become popular; we then see 3 getting an idea to take the endorsement for the cafe, but I also like to think he wanted to get it out of 4’s hands to keep him from growing power hungry over his popularity again. He did put a camera in 4’s room to make sure he didn’t go insane again after the whole perfect video fiasco, after all; he wants to look out for him and make sure there isn't a repeat of that. 

Getting this idea, 3 gets 4 to warm up to him via the “buddy chum pal” bit (the exact same way 4 did to him all the way back in Are You Okay). The two of them along with Mario then go to the trash dump to retrieve the endorsement, and classic star trio chaos ensues. 

The two guardians split up and spend hours trying to find Mario, having walkie-talkie conversations in between. 4 asks about the business, to which 3 lies and says thing are going well. When they join back up and 4 sees 3 trying to open a blocked door, 3 panics and says he’s just trying to open the door for him. 

Something interesting happens after that: when 4 is talking, 3 dissociates and ends up imagining 4 belittling him in a way that expresses 3’s fears: specifically, his fears of being inferior to the other (“worse version of you”) and being forgotten. This isn’t confirmed, but I've seen it theorized that the only opinion that matters to 3 is 4’s (with vice versa also possible). 

Once they find Mario, they fight over him as they both try to claim the drive with the endorsement on it, 3 avoiding telling 4 the truth as long as he can. 

The fight eventually goes too far, with 4 calling 3 selfish since he doesn’t understand why 3 wants it so badly. This causes 3 to snap and have a breakdown, admitting his business is struggling severely and how he feels as if he’s the worse version of 4. This makes 4 realize that 3 is struggling a lot more emotionally than he let on, leading to him deciding to give 3 the endorsement willingly.

14x08: SMG4 And SMG3 Rank SMG4 Characters

And here we are, the first of the 3 & 4 improv episodes. I know it’s debated whether these can be considered, but since they consist of Luke & James (4 & 3’s VAs) having in-character improvised conversations, I still want to bring them up. 

A general frequent aspect of these episodes is the two joking around and generally getting along better, which is nice to see. Usually aside from serious moments, we just see them bickering like the rivals they used to be to each other. We also can see loving glances exchanged from time to time in these episodes’ animation portions. 

14x12: Once Upon An SMG4

I only have one note for this one and it won’t make sense unless you’ve watched The Cuphead Show since it’s a parallel to a scene in that, but I still want to talk about it.

After 3’s song at the beginning, he asks aloud “whoever shall be my sugar daddy?” (yes, that’s actually what he said word for word). There proceeds to immediately be a cut to 4 in his lair. This instantly reminded me of the scene in the Cuphead Show episode “Down & Out”, where King Dice claims there's just one thing missing from the revival of his career; there proceeds to be a camera pan downward to The Devil going about his business in hell. Another thing that likely won’t be known by non-Cuphead fans is that the ship between King Dice and The Devil (at least within the show, idk about the game) is semi-canon: They don’t get together in the media itself, but the team behind the show as well as the two’s voice actors have repeatedly expressed their support of the ship. And based on various events the ship between 3 and 4 can easily also be considered semi-canon... :3 

S14 Movie: Puzzlevision

I think it’s safe to say all the good stuff from this chapter of the PV saga was reserved for this movie, because there’s once again a lot to cover here. So here we go! 

The first of many parodies covered in this movie is of SpongeBob with, pretty fittingly to their characters, 4 as SpongeBob and 3 as Squidward. I know this was likely just done to fit the character roles, but you know I can’t help but note that the ship between SpongeBob and Squidward is also very popular within its own fandom. 

Throughout the movie, the two are seen being notably defensive and protective of each other in the presence of Puzzles, moreso 3 of 4. 

Once the gang is split up into different channels after the song, 3 and 4 are of course put together. The first parody they have to face is Rugrats. When 3 is grabbed, 4 doesn’t hesitate to spring into action and save him. 3 responds with a vulnerable “You saved me!” before going tsundere and calling 4 a baka (surprisingly the only time this running gag was used this year). 

After escaping that channel, they land in a parody of the Titanic film. They spot the portal to the next channel high up in the air above the ship, but neither can reach it on their own. 4 suggests he lifts 3 up to reach it, which 3 hesitantly agrees. The two proceed to reenact one of the most well-known romance scenes in all of cinema, with 3 becoming entranced by the beauty of the view around them as he’s held up by 4, embracing the moment before 4 throws him into the portal. 

14x15: SMG4 And SMG3 Design A Mascot Horror

When discussing game genres to implement, there’s a visual at around the 7:30 mark where 3 (dressed as their game’s mascot) pins 4 against a wall in a flirty manner. 

A bit later when narrowing down mechanics to use, for a split second after 3 & 4 agree to keep the romance aspect, Mario holds up a sign that says “Hi Twitter”. 

14x16: SMG4 Doesn't Meme For 1 Second

I’m not a fan of revisiting this episode, but I’ll do what I must in this case... 

After 4 is sent away, 3 is one of the first to acknowledge that he misses the other’s antics, looking on fondly as he says it made the gang’s lives more exciting. He is also the one to initiate a plan to retrieve 4 from the facility, aggressively knocking on the door when they get there to reach Mr. Niceguy. Much like everyone else, 3 is horrified when he sees how different 4 is when they see him again, attempting to snap him out of it with memes,

14x19: SMG4 Simulator

In the fishing minigame scene, when 4 fishes up 3, it says 3 is worth –100 points; however, 3 has a gold & sparkly aura around him that’s typically reserved for the best items in those types of games; additionally, the 0:34 mark on the minigame timer is skipped. I’ve also seen it theorized that this moment could represent 4 pushing away potential romantic feelings he may have for 3. 

Shortly after, 3 is seen sitting next to 4 as he grows sad over not having the reality from the ASMR video he’s listening to, telling him to do something productive before walking away. 4 contemplates briefly before deciding to listen to his advice. 

Toward the end of the episode, he’s shown to have a bootleg plush of 3 in his inventory. 

14x20: Mario's Plane Trip

3 doesn’t appear in this episode, but this is where my note from CEO of Rizz comes in! 

When 4 is getting his luggage scanned, it can be seen that one of the items inside is the creepy Mickey sculpture from before, that 3 described as a great gift for a date. One of 3’s signature bombs is also inside the suitcase. 

In a scene much later in the episode, 4 and Swag have a heart-to-heart about loved ones back home; in this conversation, Swag mentions his spouse. 4 then pulls a locket out and says he has someone waiting back home as well, but the scene is interrupted by Mario before we can see the picture inside. As you can imagine, a lot of people have theorized that 3’s picture is in that locket.

14x27: SMG4 And SMG3 Shop For Cursed Items

It’s a small visual detail but when settling on a gift for Tari, they do a cute high five. 

14x28: Mario Gets Stuck as a GIF 

When Mario loses control and starts to spin around the cafe, 3 quickly pulls 4 under the front counter with him to keep him from getting hurt. 

When 4 is scanning data of 3 in the HQ computer, 3 takes note of how 4 makes the model of him (“Do I really look like that from the back?”), even checking himself out to compare after. 

14x33: Mario Loses His Mustache 

Before the competition, 3 and 4 attempt to conspire to rig it in Mario’s favor; however, this is quickly shut down by Puzzles. 

14x34: SMG4 Theory 

Barely worth noting, but 4 is seen imagining Snowtrapped as he asks if every episode is a dream. 

14x35: SMG4 & SMG3 Come Up with an Episode 

The episode begins with 4 bursting into 3’s room while he sleeps, asking if he’s ready to “make magic”. He then proceeds to ask afterward what he’s doing in 3’s bed (which, mind you, was an improvised line from Luke). 

When 3 asks why 4 needs his help making an episode, 4 responds with telling him that his videos need spice that he thinks 3 can provide, even calling him the rosemary to his bread.  

This is definitely purely coincidental since this line was also improvised, but the rosemary plant has represented love since ancient times, being believed to reveal a person's true love. 

When 4 agrees that 3 should be a main part of the episode, the official sticker of 3 blushing is stuck onto his face. 

The episode they come up with was eventually made, but no, I won't be covering it. 

14x38: Welcome to Puzzle Park 

When Mario is thrown back by the force of Leggy’s yells, it almost seems as if 3 and 4 are leaning on each other on the sofa. 

When 3 sees Luigi get pulled into a portal and realizes something is wrong, his first instinct is to find 4 & Mario and tell them to run. He fails to reach them before getting taken himself, but texts 4 a warning in the last moments beforehand; it’s also seen they both have joke-insult nicknames for each other in their phones. Just a couple years prior 3 would never have taken time to warn anyone and would just have saved himself, showing how far his development has come. 

On top of that, I've seen it guessed that the reason 3 looked so mortified when he saw Luigi get taken was because it gave him flashbacks to seeing 4 get pulled back into the castle in IGBP, hence his immediate action to help 4 get away. 

14x42: Mario Gets Stuck In Traffic

Though they are seen bickering on their way, it’s commonly joked by fans in the shipping community that their trip together to the forklift convention could be seen as a date. 

14x43: The Mario PC Virus

Okay, there’s only a couple notes for this one, but they’re big and important ones. 

When the Crocker virus entities are scavenging through 4’s computer, one of them digs through a folder on his desktop titled ‘Super-Secret Spicy Memes’. It pulls one out, showing 3 traced over a Grimace meme with the text “what’s the matter smg4-kun"; it proceeds to scream the “I know what you are” line from the English dub of Chainsaw Man at 4 over it. It should be noted that that audio bit is commonly used as a joke to tell someone that you know that they’re queer. On top of the meme bring flirtatious in nature and being in a secretive folder, it’s entirely likely that this goofy five-second bit actually indirectly confirms 4’s already-suspected crush on 3. 

When Bonzi’s power destroys the computer’s data, the video projections of 3 and 4 hug somberly as they’re erased; this is the first time that they've been seen emotionally hugging. It’s notably much more romantic in nature compared to a normal hug too, with their foreheads touching and one of each of their hands interlocked. 

Ben, the show’s thumbnail artist, also followed up with a tweet saying “they gay fr :3"  

Late addition, but in the merch sale community post video the day before 14x45, 4’s drawing could be seen taped to a page of 3’s notebook. 

14x46: Luigi Doesn’t Need Mario 

In the scene where the gang is at the hospital, the angle at which they’re shown makes it look like 3 and 4 are holding hands at Mario’s bedside. 

And that's everything! This year may have been a really rough one for the show, but I think it's safe to say the shippers were done a great service throughout. Hopefully the hints keep coming in 2025! (and possibly even them finally becoming canon? please?? it's clear the team loves to play with their dynamic in a romantic way, if they truly want to make it happen then just do it!!! /silly)

[navstuffs]

Emptiness

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: You are dead, and Leon wonders why he is still alive.

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, long one-shot, leon is suicidial, suicide attempt!!, leon is depressive, MAJOR ANGST, abuse of alcohol, some usage of y/n, cigarettes/smoking, leon is a mess, SAD SAD SAD!!!, leon is suffering a lot, lots of pain, NO HAPPINESS!, dates in italic count since reader's death

Author's Note: idk, except i am sorry i like to make the characters i love suffer and share that on the internet? i made my husband read this, and he doesn't care about leon whatsoever, and he ended up upset for him at the end so you can imagine how this goes. i have more happy leon's fanfics, you can check it out here!

PLEASE, PROCEED CAREFULLY, AS THIS FANFIC DESCRIBES SUICIDE, SUICIDE ATTEMPT, DEPRESSION, AND ALCOHOLISM.

If you have been struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, you are NOT alone! Here is a link for tumblr support for some helpful information, depending in what country you are! Seek help, you are loved, you are strong, you are wanted!

3 months, 27 days, 3 hours, 5 minutes

The first thing Leon notices when he wakes up is that he is cold. He isn't wearing a shirt, and for some reason, the blankets covering his body look dirty with some unknown substance. He groans, throwing the blanket on the floor. He still wears the jeans from last night, has no shirt on, and doesn't smell well.

The second thing he hears is his phone's ringtone. It had to be Chris. Or Claire wondering if he is alive. He sits up, his hand rubbing his face as a way to make the headache less.

The third thing Leon notices is his hand resting in the empty space of the bed. Your empty space on the bed. He gulps because he hasn't touched that part since returning to the house. He raises his hand as if Leon contaminated the area, the last pieces he had of you.

Leon glimpses under your pillow a very familiar black shirt. One of the ones he gave to you. Leon doesn't remember grabbing it last night. He holds it, checking if he got dirty, but the shirt seems clean. Leon takes the shirt to his nose, smelling it. 

His phone rings a second time breaking his trance. He gets up from the bed and sighs when he sees the nightstands filled with beer cans. You would have hated that.

When he finally finds his phone on the bathroom floor, Leon's headache worsens when he sees Chris's name.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck Leon, I was on my way to your house right now. You scared me, man."

"What do you want?" Leon isn't in the mood to talk, especially with Chris.

"Claire told me she went by your house last night, and you weren't there. She says the motorcycle wasn't there. Have you been drinking and driving again?"

Leon rolls his eyes. As if drinking and driving was a big problem for him now.

"Okay, mom, if that is all, then."

"Look," Chris sighs, and there is a long pause before he speaks again. "There is a mission. If you are still interested."

Finally, Leon thinks. He has been begging for one for weeks now, and Chris has always said "no," "next time," or "we shall see" due to his mental health situation.

"Yeah. When?"

"I will send you more details when I have it. Look, Leon, I just don't think you should—"

Leon hangs up without letting Chris finish. He scrolls through his lost calls, mostly all of them being from Chris and Claire. A few from Jill when she was trying to help. It got too much for her as well. Leon scrolls down even longer, finally finding your name.

Almost four months ago. Has it been that long? Two last calls.

As a ritual he repeats every morning, Leon clicks on your name, hearing the call go straight to voice mail. Precisely as he wanted.

Hi, this is Y/N, you tried to reach me, but I can't take your call now! Leave me a voice message, and I will contact you as soon as possible!

Beep.

-x-

 4 months

Jill Valentine is sitting in front of Leon inside the jet. She hasn't looked at him once inside the plane as they are being taken to a contamination site. Her eyes are distant, her form is tense, and Leon maybe thinks that time can't cure it all.

"Preparing to land," They hear in their radio communications. Leon rechecks his gun, wondering without significant interest if any of that would ever end. When he looks up, Jill is observing him.

"You ready for this?" She asks with a mild tone of curiosity in her voice.

You knew Jill longer than you knew Leon, actually. You were her best friend before becoming his lover. Jill had given Leon all the solemn talk of "Don't fuck up with my best friend, or I will kill you." After your passing, Jill had become somewhat like a ghost in his life. She tried, Leon wonders, if not for you, to give him support in the first two weeks, but Leon knew deep down she blamed him.

And she was right.

"Yeah," He answers.

Jill nods. The last time she had seen Leon, he was miserable. With the longest beard Leon has ever had, bloodshot eyes, hair a mess, drunk, and the smell of cigarettes around the house. She told herself she would try for you, but it wasn't easy to see Leon like that. And after she said you would hate it if he smoked inside their house and Leon grunted that you were dead and never coming back, she left without looking twice.

She never understood why Chris and Claire continued. Maybe because they knew him longer than they knew you.

The plane finally lands in a safe space, and they exit. It is in an abandoned industrial area this time, and they might have survivors who live nearby and might need help.

"Do not fuck this up," Jill warns.

"I won't."

-x-

1 month, 1 week, 2 days, and 5 hours

Claire Redfield is knocking on Leon's door. It is way past dinner time, but she brings pizza. From your favorite place. Claire knows he won't have eaten anything since Chris kept telling her Leon is losing weight. Since your death, Claire has tried to help Leon out as much as she could because she knows that is what you would have wanted, to no avail.

"Come on, Leon, I have pizza! I know you haven't eaten today!" She announces.

That's when her sixth sense starts beeping. All house lights are off, which is strange: Leon either left the TV or any light on. Leon didn't like the darkness. Claire tries to open the door but is locked. Leon never locked the door since he was back for this house. With her heart racing, Claire goes to her bag and grabs the reserve key. She shares one with Chris, and they both trade every week. Leon doesn't seem to care, not that he cares about many things lately.

She enters the apartment to complete silence. No sight of him anywhere.

"Leon?" Her voice is distant, as her hands are looking for her gun. Maybe someone invaded and got him? Perhaps something else—?

The air escapes from Claire's lungs when she sees Leon. Hanging from the ceiling.

"Leon!" She screams, running fast to hold his legs. She doesn't know what she is doing, she is calling for help, she is trying to get a chair, she is trying to hold his legs up so he can breathe. Claire doesn't dare to look up.

With one sudden decision, Claire gets her gun and shoots three times at the rope. Leon's body drops, and he is pale as a ghost. She kneels near him, feeling his pulse. There is still one, very light, but there is one.

Without thinking twice, Claire starts CPR, Stayin' Live by Bee Gees, in her head. She knows Leon will hate her for this, but she can't fail this. She would have hated herself, you would have hated her.

"Come on, Leon, come on." She begs desperately as she compresses his chest with all her strength. When Leon finally breathes, a small vigorous one, Claire is sweating on her clothes. She sighs, relieved, sitting down on the floor, drained.

She grabs her bag and finds her phone to call the emergency number, asking for an ambulance. That her friend attempted suicide. She gives them Leon's address, checking for his breathing. When Leon opens his eyes, he is confused. The last thing he remembers is kicking the chair away, the air escaping slowly from his lungs. He looks around, finding Claire's face in his peripheral view. She seems to be crying, her hands on his chest.

His blue eyes find hers, and Leon looks with hatred in her direction for the first time that Claire doesn't recognize him. She feels tears form in the corner of her eyes, and her lips shake, but she holds them back.

"I have called an ambulance," Her voice shakes, and Leon's stare carries so much weight that she must look away.

-x-

1 month, 3 weeks, 8 hours, 2 minutes. 

The hospital door opens, and Leon exits, carrying his duffel bag. After staying confined for almost two weeks, he inhales the fresh air. Those two weeks, instead of helping, just made him feel worse. Much worse. With no alcohol, no cigarettes, nothing, Leon had no way to forget. He woke up and went to sleep with your face on his mind.

Going through what he did wrong. What he could have done right.

He feels the pain sting his soul, thinking about your smile. Fuck, he needed a drink. He needed some sort of dubious mixed-up cocktail. The stronger, the better. When he looks to his left, he sees Chris Redfield standing.

Sighing, he walks toward Chris. Leon knows he won't be able to run away. Chris has a worried stare as he gets closer. To be honest, Leon thought he should have hated after what he did to Claire, but no, Redfield still manages to give him a small smile when Leon gets close.

"Hey."

"Who told you I was going to leave?"

"Mhm, the hospital? You are in my care for the next couple of weeks."

"I am going home." Leon starts to walk away from him, but Chris's arm stops him.

"No, you are not. As I said, you are in my care. And if I need to drag you to my car and make a scene in front of all those people, I will. What do you think?"

Leon hates how Chris can look like you so much regarding his care. Always to drastic measures, you both could say. Pretending to have given up, Leon holds his hands up as a sign of defeat and follows Chris to his car.

"Is...Claire okay?" Leon mutters as Chris starts the car. Leon can see Chris hold the wheel stronger than he should, but the moment passes, and Chris answers.

"She is worried sick about you. She has been...busy, that is all."

Leon knows that is a lie. He had seen Claire on one of the visitations day, and she seemed upset like she had been crying every day since she found him. Leon felt guilty Claire was finding him (he thought someone else would) and was outraged when she saved him. And he ended up lashing out at her. When Claire tried to argue during the visitations that is what you would have wanted, Leon roared that he never wanted to see her again.

To be honest, Leon is relieved. One less person for him to hurt. Chris, well, that one was hard. Leon knows he isn't giving up that easily. Especially after the last thing he said to you was that he would protect him during a mission.

"No, no, Chris, you don't understand, he bikes around without a helmet and thinks that is super cool? I mean, how old is he again? You better keep your eye on him, if I am not around. Got it?" You asked, winking in Leon's direction. He knew you were teasing him, but Chris's tone was serious when he answered.

"Loud and clear."

In the first three weeks after your death, Chris was there. He rummaged through the house, taking everything Leon could use to harm himself. Leon's guns were the first to go, Leon didn't know how he discovered the password, and honestly, he didn't care. He just woke up a day with them gone. Knives? Gone. It was like Chris was baby-proofing the house. 

Leon would have lost much more weight during that time if it wasn't for Chris insisting on him eating. Or hydrate. Warning if he got too weak to take care of himself, Chris would have made sure to strap him to a bed and kept him there against his will.

"There are cigarettes in the glove's compartment," Chris says, cutting his line of thought.

Leon looks at him with suspicion before opening. Chris wasn't lying. There is even a lighter there.

"You smokin' now?" Leon asks out of curiosity.

"No. I bought those for you."

Leon lights up a cigar, opening the window. The rest of the car ride goes silent, and when they finally arrive at Chris's house, he turns off the car, sighing.

"Look, Leon. I am not very good at this, and you know it. You will stay with me as long as you want, but I can't keep you a prisoner in my house."

Leon observes him, and Chris takes the courage to finally say it.

"No one wants you dead, Leon. What happened to Y/N, it wasn't your fault. And you need therapy."

Leon gives a humorless laugh, opening the door of the car.

"You are not bad at this, Chris. You are terrible at this."

-x-

4 months, 1 day, 5 hours

Ada Wong is good at her job. She does what she is paid to do when she needs to do it. No feelings attached, except, well, when Leon Kennedy is involved. It had been like this since the events during Raccoon City.

And then, suddenly, you appeared on his side during the events in Spain. You were something else, for sure. Standing by his side, remaining strong, although that was your first mission, or so Ada heard. And facing up her, determination in your eyes. Ada found you adorable, perfect for Leon. The loyalty, in your eyes, was something she could never demonstrate.

The man in front of her now was just what once was Leon Kennedy, her..."ally" from the other side. Ada had to admit she was shocked when she first saw him, barely recognizing him. Leon had big dark bags under his eyes, not as strong as he once was. And there was...no life in his once vivid blue eyes. Nothing.

"Ada Wong. Doing something for yourself again?" Leon asks, his voice monotone.

Ada was used to his hostility, mistrust, and even anger. But not that complete apathy, a complete lack of emotions. Leon Kennedy was dead, she was confident, and he died when you did.

"You know I don't share my secrets, big boy," She says, her tone the same as always. "But we can always find common ground, as we always do."

Leon nods, and Ada tells herself she shouldn't care, she shouldn't ask. But she has never seen it like this, and this Leon frightens her.

"I have heard about Y/N. My condolences."

Leon's eyes go wide with surprise. He looks at Ada as if she has just arrived from outer space.

"Is this one of your schemes? 'Cause if it is, cut the crap, I am not in the mood."

"It is not. I heard about what happened." Is Ada Wong really showing empathy? Leon blinks, surprised, but he shakes his head. No, it has to be one of her tricks. Since when did Ada start caring about him?

"Shut up, Ada. Do not mention this ever again. We are here for a mission, nothing else, nothing more. Stop pretending you fucking care." Leon's voice is low, and Ada doesn't say anything as she watches him walk in the dark corridor before her. She has known him long enough to know when he is being serious, and she knows he is threatening her life now.

Ada sighs. The Leon Kennedy she once knew, was gone. You left a carcass behind, a damaged man for the rest of his life. Ada still remembers the last thing she said to you, before she disappeared.

"You are truly special. Take care of him."

-x-

1 minute

"Is Mr. Leon Kennedy speaking?"

Leon stops when he answers his phone to a strange voice. 

"Yes? Who is this?"

"Mr. Kennedy, this is from McKenney Hospital. Could we speak with you in just a moment? Are you busy or driving?"

"No. Hospital, you say? What is going on?"

"We just need a moment of your time. Do you know Y/N L/N?"

Leon's heart starts bumping against his chest.

"Yes. What about it?"

"Y/N L/N was involved in a car crash today, sir. At this moment in time, they are doing surgery on them."

"What? No, excuse me, ma'am, this is some mistake."

The gentle voice behind the phone silences as she listens, Leon saying you weren't involved in an accident. It was impossible. You were coming to have dinner with him later, you were going to forgive him, you were going to be back together just fine. When Leon shuts up, the voice speaks again with much more compassion.

"You are tagged as their emergency contact, Mr. Kennedy. How long can you get in here—"

"I just fucking told you, lady, that is impossible, they are coming to have dinner with me, we are supposed to reconnect, and you aren't listening to me!" Leon screams the last part, punching the counter before him and making all the glass bowls in the counter jump. 

The compassionate voice waits to speak again in a much more determined tone.

"Mr. Kennedy, I suggest you come to the hospital, not alone. Come with a friend. We will answer all your questions and concerns when you get here. Just don't come alone."

Leon turns off the call, pissed. How can the lady be so stupid? He told her over and over again you were on your way to his house, your house. Leon had been cooking the whole night, preparing your favorite dinner. After that, he would never let you away from him ever again. He breathes deeply now, trying to ease the tremors on his hands, when he lets his eyes wander off to the TV, a news broadcast about a terrible accident that happened. Some drunk driver caused this accident that involved a with a truck oil tank, and five people were killed. Many injuries reported.

Without thinking twice, Leon grabs his motorcycle's keys.

He doesn't know how he got in one piece in the hospital. Something inside him tells him to call Jill, Claire, Chris, or someone, anyone, but he doesn't. The hospital's entrance is chaotic, with most victims being taken there since it was the closest location.

Leon asks your name to the front receptionist, and they say they are operating you now. The lady points to the waiting room area, where Leon waits. Leon had felt fear many times in his life, but nothing compared to this. He knew you were strong. Stronger than him, actually. You were brave. You were getting out of this.

Because he didn't know how to live without you.

Leon observed families getting good and bad news for what seemed an eternity. The death toll climbed to more two people, a mom crumble in the doctor's arms due to the loss of his son and husband. Leon was praying, begging for some higher force or anything for you to live.

He would never drink again. Leon Kennedy would never let the darkness inside him win and let you go. He would never doubt himself or his ability to love. No, Leon would love you even more intensely than he already did, more than anything in his life.

Leon takes a while to get up when the doctor finally calls his name. He feels sick, his stomach is twisting. He counts nine steps until he gets to the doctor, a lady with scrubs and an indecipherable face.  

"Mr. Kennedy, do you want me to take you to a more private room?"

"Tell me."

The doctor sighs, looking directly into his eyes when she says. 

"We did everything we could, Mr. Kennedy. I am sorry they didn't make it."

No. 

"I am sorry, Mr. Kennedy, I truly am."

No. NO! NO!

"Mr. Kennedy, please, don't, I am sorry. Can I get some help over here? Please, don't do this!"

It takes six or seven security guards to stop Leon from destroying the waiting room or even hurting someone. He is crying, he is begging, he is losing himself. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. It was unfair: not after everything he had done or everything you went through together. He always told you he needed to die first because Leon knew damn well he couldn't live without you. Leon has a hole in his chest that will never close again. He feels someone pull his sleeve up, a pinching sensation, and Leon falls into darkness. 

[theharrowing]

Carnival of Terror 🎪 4: I make them dance

The carnival is in town, and it is unlike anything you have ever experienced. Will you make it out alive?

🎪 Jungkook x Female Reader, Jungkook x Yoongi

🎪 word count: 11.7k

🎪 choose your own adventure, friends & strangers to lovers, carnival and circus au, dead dove, horror, possible minor & major character injury & death, supernatural elements & magic realism, nsfw, 21+

🎪 warnings: use of recreational drugs (mdma - time it takes to kick in is sped up for the narrative; feeling unsettled and paranoid; overwhelm); some of you might find Jungkook's behavior to be akin to infidelity, but in the context of their relationship, it's not; explicit smut (vaginal fingering & sex against a wall; multiple orgasms; not quite a blow job; cum swallowing) teasing & use of the word "whore"; being fed water from someone else's mouth; marionette horror; mirror horror; bloody slice across a face.

🎪 note: at best, everyone is a little toxic. at worst, they're a monster in human flesh with dark secrets, that can only exist in this magical realist world. likely, they are something in between. also, if you're in my time zone and see me posting at 2 in the morning, no you don't lmao.

🍧 food note: idk if everyone grew up eating "snow cones" but they're literally just balls of ice and flavored syrup. bingsu and shaved ice are kind of similar, but the ingredients and presentation can differ.

🎪 if you need a little refresher on what happened in the last chapter, i made a handy dandy recap post.

🎪 beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🎪 posted june. 2024 | read on ao3

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WELCOME BACK TO THE GREATEST SHOW IN THE WORLD!

We left off making questionable choices with Jeongguk. Just how many of our intrepid characters can get lost at once?

POLLS THAT SWAYED EVENTS IN THIS CHAPTER:

ducky & rabbit 1 | ducky & rabbit 2

The little pale crystals taste bitter on your tongue, and you wince in disgust as you reach for the open water bottle that Jeongguk holds in his fingertips, arm outstretched. He eyes you curiously, more openly than you have grown accustomed to, and it excites you. 

"Have you rolled before?" he asks, leaning close as you swallow down two large gulps of ice-cold water. 

"No," you admit with a shiver. 

Not that you know of, anyway. After what you have seen and felt in Seokjin's hypnotic trances, you are beginning to wonder whether perhaps your memories are not the extent of your experiences. Of course, there is a possibility that Seokjin has somehow planted those memories of you in bed with him and Namjoon, but that is a matter for later. For now, you have other matters to attend to.

"You'll like it," Jeongguk insists, stepping close. 

The two of you stand under the shade of the Hall of Mirrors building. With your back inches from the wall, you are unable to hold any space between your bodies.

Your breath feels heavy as you ask, "How do you know?'

Jeongguk smirks. "You like it when your mind is a little fucky, don't you? I mean…you let Yoongi hyung dig his claws into you for long enough."

"What's your excuse?" you ask, equal parts curious and defensive. 

"I love the game," Jeongguk shrugs, easy enough. "Sure, sometimes he breaks my heart, but he always comes crawling back. And in the meantime, I have plenty of distractions."

"Distractions?" you ask.

Jeongguk is far too close, and his lightly floral musk is cloyingly sweet. You find yourself swaying toward and away, toward and away.

"Drugs," Jeongguk says with another shrug. His gaze is pointed as he adds, "And sex." 

It feels like whiplash the way Jeongguk so easily shifts into a completely different person. If you didn't know any better, you would think he and Yoongi were in on something together, and that Yoongi is just off in the periphery somewhere, enjoying the show. 

"How long does it take to kick in?" you ask, ignoring Jeongguk's dark, smoldering eyes and attempting to gaze out at the carnival grounds past him. 

The sun should be going down by now, but it continues to hang high and bright. All around you, music blares, and voices shout. It no longer overwhelms the senses; rather, it feels commonplace.

"Could take an hour. Could take fifteen minutes. With this cut, it's hard to tell."

That is not reassuring. 

"Why is it so inconsistent?"

Jeongguk shrugs. "This cut is strange."

You sigh and accept your fate; what more could you do at this point? Jeongguk seems amused, chuckling a light, twinkling sound – pitchy and melodic. He almost looks childlike with the striped scarf hanging around his neck, tied neatly in the front. 

"Want to walk around and wait to come up, or go inside and get lost?"

Get lost feels like the wrong way to describe precisely what you want, but perhaps it is somewhat accurate.

You take Jeongguk by the hand and go to the left, toward the back door to the Hall of Mirrors – the door that is closest. From the outside, there is no handle, but you instinctively reach for the edge of the door and run your fingers along where there is a small groove in the black-painted wood, allowing you to hook a finger in and open the door. 

"Whoa," Jeongguk mutters, and you think the same, surprising even yourself. 

The room that the door opens up to is dark, and it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. You pull Jeongguk to the right, whereas the hallway leading into the attraction is on the left, and you find a thick black curtain that you pull out of the way, then discover a small black door. You knock lightly, wait for several seconds, and then yank it open, gaining entrance into an empty space that is clearly not meant for the general public. 

"How do you know about this place?" Jeongguk asks.

"I don't know," you admit. Your body is simply running on autopilot.

The room the two of you find yourself in is rather small and dimly lit, with black walls and nothing to sit upon. There is a small metal hook that locks the door, and you slide it into place. Music plays overhead – the same dizzying organ tunes you have grown accustomed to hearing in this place – and the air feels unusually heavy. 

"I'm surprised you agreed to this," Jeongguk purrs as he crowds your space. 

Instinctively, you step back, knocking your foot against a wooden wall. You stare at Jeongguk as he towers close, keeping your hands to your sides as you try your best to steady your breath. 

"I am too," you admit. 

"Yoongi hyung not enough for you?" Jeongguk teases as he leans close enough to press his body into yours. Warmth radiates, and you melt a little into the wall, allowing yourself to relax. 

Holding firm, steady eye contact, you reach up to rub your palms over Jeongguk's chest, dancing your fingertips over taut muscle concealed under the light, soft, greenish-blue fabric of his shirt. With your left hand, you finger the scarf, giving it gentle tugs.

"Yoongi is more than enough for me," you say, tilting your head playfully. "But he's not here, is he?"

Jeongguk grabs your waist and spins you around. You barely have time to steady your hands against the wall to prevent your cheek from smashing into wood. He presses into you, yanking your hips back until his crotch rubs against your ass, and you sigh a shattered breath as your eyes flutter closed.

"More than enough, hmm?" Jeongguk groans in your ear, voice just above a feral growl. "If that were true, then why are you so eager to let me have you?"

You shrug and whine, "I'm bored."

"Bored," Jeongguk snarls, reaching around to undo your slacks. 

His fingers are quick, and he shoves the material down, then reaches a greedy hand between your legs to rub over your clothed pussy. The material is cold to the touch and still slightly wet, and he tsks in your ear.

"This all for me, or this from earlier?"

"From earlier," you admit.

"When?" Jeongguk asks in a sharp, angry tone.

You grin. "Tunnel of Love."

Jeongguk chuckles, but the sound is deep and swimming with fury. If you didn't know any better, you might think he is planning on ripping you apart.

"I knew it," he all but growls.

Your body simmers with excitement and something else – something that might feel like panic if not for Jeongguk's long fingers roughly stroking over your soiled undergarment. You sigh and press your ass back, feeling the way his erection tents in his pants, tempted to offer to get on your knees and beg for it. 

"He told me all about you, you know," Jeongguk says sweetly, voice far more tame and welcoming. "I know everything."

You hum a curious sound and ask, "Like what?"

"Like how tight you are," Jeongguk says as he pulls your panties aside and lets one finger explore your folds before it dips deep inside. "Fuck," he sighs, breath hot against your neck. "So fucking wet."

"That's all for you," you whine as Jeongguk pulls his finger out and slowly presses it in deep. 

"Yeah?" he asks. "You sure about that? Or is it just me talking about Yoongi hyung that turns you on?"

With a sigh and a light giggle, you say, "Maybe it's a little of both."

"Yeah?" Jeongguk asks, pulling his finger out in a broad stroke that rubs across your clit, making you tremble with pleasure. "You like being hyung's little whore?"

You wonder if Jeongguk is attempting to hurt your feelings despite circling his finger over your bud in firm strokes. All you feel is amusement. 

You attempt to look over your shoulder as you ask, "Are you?"

Jeongguk dips his hand down and slides two fingers in, this time making you hiss. The stretch is not enough to really fill you the way you like, but it feels good. It feels promising. 

From behind, you can hear Jeongguk's other hand at work on his button and zipper. Fabric rustles, his hand pulls away, leaving you empty, and then you feel his cock pressed against your ass. 

"I saw you first," he groans, knuckles brushing over your skin as he strokes himself. "I was the one who pointed you out to hyung. I wanted you first."

He takes you by the hips in both hands and pulls back, forcing your back to arch. You feel trapped in your slacks, unable to spread your legs, but Jeongguk does not seem to mind. He bends and slides his cock against your semi-clothed cunt, causing the two of you to whine in tandem. 

"But Yoongi hyung always gets what he wants," Jeongguk says as he lines his cock up with your hole and thrusts, rubbing his length over your folds and clit. 

A shiver runs along your spine, and you sigh, enjoying the slide even without penetration. Then Jeongguk lines up again and presses slower, steadier, spearing you open. 

Arousal floods quickly, making you moan as pleasure quakes through you. You know that you should be quiet, but it is hard to hold back, and you bite your bottom lip in an attempt to clamp your mouth shut and muffle your sounds. 

Jeongguk is thick, and he moves maddeningly slow, making you feel every little vein and curve he has to offer. Everything is heightened with how sore you are from earlier.

"What was it about me?" you whimper, attempting to keep your voice low and steady.

Jeongguk pulls back and thrusts forward, coating himself in you, making the slide much smoother. Then he buries his nose in your neck as he straightens you from the half-bent position you had found yourself in. 

Your back stays somewhat arched, but you attempt to stand tall and allow Jeongguk's hands to grip your hip and chest, holding you in place. You anchor your palms against the rough wood wall, feeling its tiny grooves filled with paint.

"Everything," he groans as he pulls back and thrusts quickly forward, making you moan in dizzying pleasure. 

The hand on your chest slides up and firmly plants over your mouth. You sigh into the feeling, breathing in the faintly sweet scent of his skin as he sets a steady pace and fucks you. 

"Your smile," Jeongguk grunts, hips slapping against your ass in a punctuated rhythm. "Your laugh. You were so—" Jeongguk's hand slides from your hip, reaches forward, and pinches your clit, "—intoxicating," he growls as you moan desperately into his palm, feeling pleasure burst inside you. 

Jeongguk fucks you hard and fast, groaning against your neck while your hot breath creates a pocket of condensation coating his calluses, his life lines, and his heart lines. Surely, you could be heard by anyone who may approach the little black door hidden behind the velvet curtain, but you cannot bring yourself to care.

You feel euphoric. You feel lost.

"Cum for me, baby," Jeongguk commands, fingers pinching and rubbing your clit in rough but pleasant motions. 

Ignoring the way your chest flutters at the sound of Jeongguk calling you baby, you nod and close your eyes, relaxing as best as you can, eager for release. Fireworks of light and pleasure seem to explode within you, and as you climb higher and higher toward bliss, you feel awash with warm, overbearing ecstasy. 

Desperately, you moan into Jeongguk's palm. You attempt to beg him to make you cum, muttering a muffled prayer of, "Please, please, please." 

Jeongguk angles his hips, pressing himself impossibly deeper, causing your eyes to roll back. Orgasm explodes and you squeal and shake, worried the pleasure might knock you down to the floor. 

But Jeongguk holds you firmly and keeps you steady. Your blunt fingernails dig into the wooden wall, and you quake as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, threatening to drown you in its undertow. 

"So fucking good," Jeongguk groans against your neck. "You feel so fucking good cuming on my cock."

You are unsure whether it is the drugs or simply Jeongguk, but as soon as you feel as if you are able to relax and come down from your high, another explodes inside you, causing your legs to go weak as you tremble and squeal. 

"Holy fuck," Jeongguk growls. "That's it, baby. Keep squeezing me."

You attempt to moan Jeongguk's name, but your voice is too muffled. The sound of your release squelching with each thrust fills you with shame and excitement, and you wonder whether you have ever cum so hard before. You want to tell Jeongguk as much – want to praise him for how incredibly he fucks you – but all you can do is moan and sob against his damp palm, and take what he has to give you.

"Gonna cum," Jeongguk warns. Then he slides his hand away and asks, "Will you swallow it?"

Without thinking twice, you nod, voice broken and weak as you moan through the last of Jeongguk's firm, deep strokes. 

He pulls out, and you turn, dropping to your knees haphazardly, which are stuck together in your bunched slacks. Your knees sting as they kiss wood, but all you can focus on is Jeongguk's pretty, uncut cock glistening above your face as his fist slowly strokes up the shaft. 

"Open," he commands, leaning with one hand against the wall and towering over you. 

You open wide and do your best to sit high, but a steady tremble works through your entire body, causing you to feel dizzy and disoriented. Jeongguk takes your chin in his hand and slides his cock along your outstretched tongue, and as soon as you close your lips around the tip and suck, tasting your own heady flavor, he pulsates against your lips and cums. 

Jeongguk moans, fingers digging into your jaw, and you do your best to breathe through the gentle thrust of him along your tongue, spurting into your throat. When he sighs heavily and pulls back, you look up, heavy-blinking and holding your mouth open wide. 

The sight above you is heavenly. Jeongguk pants and stares, covered in a sheen of sweat that sticks his shirt to his firm, muscular chest and arms. His face is rosy-blushed, and his dark eyes are wide. 

"Fuck," he mutters, leaving his cock to hang heavy and deflate while he moves his hand to your mouth and presses the pads of two fingers against the mess on your tongue. 

Something is clearly on his mind, and you stare up in waiting. Then he pulls his fingers out, and nods, cracking a smile. 

"Hyung mentioned you were a fucking dirty girl. I bet I could spit in your mouth and you wouldn't mind."

You roll your eyes and retract your tongue, smiling at Jeongguk's audacity. You absolutely would not mind, but he doesn't need to know that. Not when he seems to feel so superior over you. 

Jeongguk tucks himself back into his slacks and then helps you stand. Your legs feel like overcooked noodles, and you stumble back against the wall as you reach to pull your pants up with trembling hands.

Around you, the sound of the music swells and sways, and you would attribute the disorienting nature to the drugs, but this is how it sounded when Namjoon held your hand and pulled you through these halls earlier. You wonder if, perhaps, Namjoon is nearby.

"Feel the effects?" Jeongguk asks, grabbing the bottle of water from where it seems to have been tossed to the floor. 

You stretch your arms over your head, feeling how simultaneously heavy and light they are. "I think so," you mutter. 

Jeongguk takes a drink of water, then steps forward crowding your space. You open your mouth to ask what he is doing as your head bumps against the wall, but Jeongguk simply opens his mouth and dribbles ice-cold water from his lips to yours. 

Most of the water makes it to your mouth, but some drools out to the side, and as the two of you swallow, Jeongguk kisses you, licking deep and causing you to melt into the wall once more. 

You lift your hands to rub against his chest, palms grazing over clothed pierced nipples, making Jeongguk hiss. He licks firmly over your tongue, then pulls a moan from your throat as he sucks on its tip. 

"You taste good," Jeongguk mutters against your lips, urging you on. 

You slide one hand up to scarf around Jeongguk's neck and pull him close, licking fervently into his mouth, tasting and teasing; taking as you please. Jeongguk presses his hips against you, and you chuckle, breaking the kiss. 

"We should get some fresh air," you mutter, feeling warm and increasingly claustrophobic. 

"Alright," Jeongguk mutters, sucking your lower lip between his teeth. You whine until he releases, and sigh as he says, "Let's go."

Jeongguk takes your hand in his, and you can feel residual cold on his palm from when it held onto the water bottle moments ago. It feels nice and grounding as you attempt to get your feet to cooperate and assist you with leaving this place. 

Only, when you exit this small room and walk toward the door that should lead back outside, all you find in its place is a wall. Jeongguk presses and rubs against the black wood, and he sighs when he finds nothing. High on the wall is a blinking red Dead End sign, and you wonder whether there is a proper back exit, or if this attraction is only meant to have one way in and one way out.

"I want to freak out about this, but I feel too high to care," he grumbles, making you laugh.

You would also like to freak out about this and all the other oddities that you have experienced. But you know that it will do nobody any good, and so you sigh and yank Jeongguk toward the hallway that leads into the attraction. 

"Only way out is through, I guess," you sigh. 

Jeongguk falls into step beside you, and as you enter the first hall full of glass and reflected light, dizziness overtakes you. The two of you stumble and giggle, stopping to gawk at your warped reflections, warping them further as you bend and twist. 

You are a little surprised that Jeongguk continues to hold your hand, firmly keeping you close, leading at times, and following at others. It feels nice. Warm and steady. Secure. You nearly forget all about Yoongi.

But then a flash of blue and black moves in the distance ahead, and although you do not clearly see it, you feel it. It has to be Yoongi. 

Jeongguk is giggling as his reflection when you grip tightly to his fingers and pull, causing him to stumble to your side, muttering something under his breath. 

"This way," you insist, staring ahead for any sign of the blur that you could swear is Yoongi. 

You turn your gaze every which way, looking into rooms and staring as far as you can along paths, but all you find are strangers. Amused couples, bored third-wheels, and giggling shapes pressed closely in dark corners. 

"What is it?" Jeongguk asks, slowing and creating resistance. 

"I need fresh air," you sigh as your chest tightens and the air feels constricted. "I just…I need to get out of here."

Time seems even more warped as the drug shimmers through your system, and you search and search, though for what, you slowly forget. All you know is that there is a deep, pounding need in your chest, but as you turn corners and examine rooms, you question whether that need could ever truly be filled.

Far ahead, down the long hallway and past several doorways, you spot a bright shining light appearing and disappearing. Sunlight. 

You yank on Jeongguk, who follows along obediently, holding onto your palm as it increasingly begins to sweat, slickening your hold. He allows you to pass through doorways first and slides easily behind you to allow others to pass. 

When you reach the exit, he steps ahead first and presses the heavy wooden door open, holding it for you. All at once, the air is hot and dry, and as you take in a deep inhale, you are unsure whether you feel better or worse, squinting against the bright sun. 

Jeongguk hands you the bottle of water, and you finally release his hand, lamenting the familiar warmth as your trembling fingers struggle to twist the tiny plastic cap free. You stumble into some shade beside the entrance of the building, and Jeongguk follows. 

He crowds your space and takes the plastic bottle cap, sliding it into his pocket for safekeeping. As you lift the bottle to your lips, you quake and sigh, shivering despite overheating. 

"The come up is sometimes just as rough as the comedown," Jeongguk mutters sweetly. "You probably didn't feel it as badly inside because you were distracted. It'll pass soon."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" you ask, voice weak and pathetic against the small round rim of the bottle. You take a large cold gulp and refrain from finishing off the water despite feeling thirsty enough to want to drown.

"What are you talking about?" Jeongguk asks, laughing. 

As you sigh through the cold gulp, you hand over the bottle, watching as Jeongguk drinks from it with steady hands, much better equipped to handle the drug than you. 

"You called me a whore," you pout, suddenly feeling upset despite not caring before. 

Jeongguk finishes the water and crushes the bottle in his hand, crinkling the plastic as he steps forward to crowd your space. A crazed grin tugs at his lips, and with a lift of his brow, he mutters, "I was only joking," sending a chill down your spine.

"Are you sure?" you ask, doing your best to appear unaffected but feeling jittery.

Jeongguk's look fades and he begins laughing. "You're too much," he mutters, shaking his head. 

Affronted, you attempt to swat him on the chest, but Jeongguk grabs your hand and holds it close. 

"Why are you so annoying?" you grumble, attempting uselessly to yank your hand away. 

"You like it," he responds, grinning as he lets go, causing you to stumble back into the wall from your semi-frantic movement.

The world feels off. Glimmering and electric. Overbearing yet underwhelming. 

"What time is it?" you ask, making no move to reach for the phone in your pocket. 

Jeongguk sighs. "I suppose we should find the others. How long were we fucking?"

His candor makes you shy, and you feel the way heat burns up your neck, to your cheeks. You would attempt to smack him again, but you know it is pointless. 

You look around, wondering whether your friends are still at the game booths where they said they would be. "Where did you tell them we were going?" 

"I told them the truth," Jeongguk shrugs. 

Anxiety rises. "The truth, as in…"

Jeongguk smirks. "They already know about what hyung and I do. No need to act like such a prude about it."

Petulance rises, and you actually lift your hand with the urge to smack, but Jeongguk watches the movement and lifts his eyebrows. He is far too quick, and for your own sanity, you need to minimize the amount of time he spends touching you from this point forward. 

"I'm not a prude!" you grit through your teeth, eager to get your point across without being too loud. 

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. "Look, Tae hyungie originally pointed you out to me. Nobody is going to be shocked by this development."

"Wait…" you grumble, mulling it over. "What?"

Jeongguk shrugs. "He said you would be my type, which of course made Yoongi hyung pounce first. I doubt that he or Jimin hyung would be alarmed or upset if they knew we ended up together, as intended."

You frown, running Jeongguk's words through your mind. The night you met Yoongi, you were with a friend at a house party. That friend introduced you to Yoongi, who later introduced you to Jeongguk. It would be another week before you were introduced to Taehyung and Jimin. What does he mean Taehyung pointed you out?

"Taehyung?" you ask, cocking your head to the side. 

Jeongguk shrugs again. "I don't know," he concedes, seemingly disinterested in dwelling on the details. "He said you were my type, but I'm sure he just meant visually. It's not like you two knew each other."

You softly ask, "What is your type?" and then berate yourself silently, wishing you could just let what transpired in the Hall of Mirrors stay there. 

Regret sinks its claws in as Jeongguk licks over his lips and says, "Pretty. Bratty. Tight."

You roll your eyes and shake your head, scoffing in disbelief. Despite knowing you should bite your tongue, you tilt your chin up as a challenge and ask, "Well? Did I live up to the expectations?"

Jeongguk cracks a smile and says, "Yeah. You're bratty as fuck."

You shove at Jeongguk with both hands, causing him to stumble back into the hot sun and nearly crash into a couple walking by. He laughs, doubling over with his hands on his knees, and stays there for what feels like a very long time, causing you to laugh as well. And then he straightens out and motions for you to follow him while he begins to walk in the direction of a food cart. 

The biggest downside to the drug seems to be how thirsty you become. You also seem to struggle with regulating your temperature, shivering in the shade and feeling stiflingly hot in the sun. 

Jeongguk stands tall on his toes and leans his arms against the high metal shelf of the food cart while he orders a bottle of water and a couple of lollipops. You allow yourself to study his body, noting the way his tiny waist cinches above the band of his slacks, and how his torso curves up into broad, muscular shoulders. 

Tattoos peek out from under his sleeve, littering his hand, and you remember the feeling of metal under his shirt when your palms felt his chest. There seems to be a lot about shy, sweet Jeongguk that you do not know. Perhaps it is no wonder why he and Yoongi get along so well. 

Yoongi. Thinking about him makes you frown. You wish you knew what happened to him when Jeongguk told him to get lost. Everything has felt like a fever dream since you walked into the carnival grounds, and you continuously wonder when you will finally wake up. 

Jeongguk holds out two lollipops, pulling you from your thoughts, and you examine their colorful wrappers, given the choice between grape and cherry. You pick grape, considering how good cherry might taste if you have the chance to suck it off of Jeongguk's tongue later. 

"Thanks," you mutter sweetly, moving away from the food cart to a more secluded area as you pick at the little plastic wrapper with your fingertips. 

With a sigh, Jeongguk sidles up close to you, blocking the sun. You stand near the backs of various trailers, some hitched together, and it feels nice to be away from the crowd.

"Do you feel guilty?" you ask. 

Jeongguk takes his time to fuss with his wrapper, then asks, "About what?"

You turn your head to glance at Jeongguk, but find you would rather keep your eyes on your wrapper, finally peeling it open as you say, "About what we did."

"Why would I feel guilty?" he asks.

You twist the wrapper between your fingertips, feeling the slick plastic that bunches roughly. Your body is warm, and you become increasingly aware of your fixation, bunching up the wrapper and shoving it into your pocket. 

"I think I'm high," you mutter.

Jeongguk snickers. "We already established that."

Your entire body shivers, whether you are cold or not. Right now, you are unsure what you are. Each time a breeze hits you, goosebumps break over your skin, and you reflexively lift your shoulders to your ears. But otherwise, the heat almost feels palpable, like you could cut into it with a knife.

The fact that it still feels like noon with the sun blaring high overhead starts to rattle around in your head, and you glance up at the sky, searching the clouds for movement. Even the sun does not seem to hurt your eyes as you stare directly into it.

How is it possible that time seems to stand still within the carnival grounds? Or have you completely lost your mind? The illusions show begins at 5, and there is no way it is close to that time. 

As you lift the sucker to your lips, sugary grape flavor bursts on your taste buds more intensely than you could have possibly expected. You suck on it, coating your tongue and lips, then pull it out with a wet pop and mutter, "Wow."

"Good, huh?" Jeongguk asks.

You glance up and notice how the cherry lollipop has already stained Jeongguk's lips red. You want to stand high on your toes and trace your tongue over the color in search of just a hint of flavor.  

"There you two are!" Jimin's voice pulls you from your thoughts, causing you to jolt. 

He and Taehyung eye the two of you suspiciously, and you suddenly worry about your appearance. Despite spending so much time in the Hall of Mirrors staring at your warped reflections, you have no idea how you look. 

"Having fun?" Taehyung asks, voice low and curious, eyes mostly on Jeongguk, who shrugs.

"We did some molly," he says plainly, yawning. "She's struggling to adjust, but we should even out soon."

You return the too-sweet sucker to your mouth. Taehyung hums and Jimin gives a worried glance at you before looking around. 

"We don't have to go to the next show if you think it will be too intense," Jimin offers, bringing his concerned eyes back to you.

You shake your head, muttering around the candy, "I wanna go."

Jeongguk gives Taehyung a glance and the two of them seem to communicate telepathically. You lament briefly over not having close enough friendships to be able to read one another in such a way, but you do your best to shove away the thought. 

Taehyung very softly asks, "We still have some time before the show, want to see this weird tent Jimin and I found?"

Something about the thought of a weird tent makes you uncomfortable. You ask, "Weird, how?"

Jimin nibbles on his bottom lip, eyes wide and staring at the ground, and Taehyung says, "You just have to see it. It's hard to explain."

"Where is it?" you ask, feeling as if your entire body is weighed down with lead and unwilling to move as the others turn to walk in its direction. 

"Come on," Jeongguk insists, grabbing for your elbow and yanking you along. 

You expect your newfound weight to hold you in place and keep you anchored in the shade, where it is safe, away from the weird tent, and you are disappointed to discover that you are still merely human, and easy for Jeongguk to drag along wherever he pleases. 

The warmth radiating through your sleeve from Jeongguk's palm to your skin should feel comforting, but you find that it is too warm and somewhat oppressive. You remember rough calluses pressed against your lips.

You do your best to yank your arm away, keeping with his pace, and you are relieved when he lets go. You follow Jimin and Taehyung past the game booths, and you are startled when you see it along the edge of the space: a small tent with stripes that are red and what you assume used to be white, but now look more like a rusted off-tan. 

A shiver runs along your spine, and you instantly feel a sense of ick and dread work its way through you, but your friends are undeterred. In fact, they seem to have a pep in their steps as you get closer. 

"Should we be over here?" you ask. 

Jimin turns, frowning as if you have just said something completely ridiculous, then rolls his eyes and giggles. "There's an opening on the side, and there is no explicit warning to stay out, so I don't see why not."

"You already checked this place out?" Jeongguk asks with a bit of a dreamy slowness to his speech. 

"We started to," Taehyung responds, voice almost too soft to make out over the cacophony of carnival sounds. "But then we decided to come get you two."

Jimin rounds the tent along the right, and the rest of you follow him. Sure enough, the flap is open, and there is no indication that carnival guests are not allowed to enter. Strange, you think, since the tent is sitting somewhat secluded from the rest of the carnival attractions, a peculiar sight that you would think would cause people to want to investigate. 

The tent is not too large, especially compared to those the Kim brothers use, but it is certainly not tiny. The opening is just shorter than your height, but the ceiling is raised several feet higher, and as you duck down and peer inside, just past Jimin's crouching body, it is large enough to contain what looks like a tiny living quarters. 

"Are you sure we should be over here?" you ask again, eyes trailing from the small mattress at the far end of the space, past a kerosene lantern and several closed wooden trunks. There are books strewn about and a pair of boots on the floor. Something about the setup seems personal. Intimate. 

"I assume it is meant to be one of those prop tents," Taehyung says from behind you, peeking to get a look. "To showcase how carnies live…or something to that effect."

"You know how, like, when we visit the historical park that has the buildings still styled the way they were in the Joseon dynasty?" Jimin says. You nod faintly. "Like that."

It is true that this tent may be just another prop, but something about it is strange. Perhaps it is just the molly making you feel so creeped out. Either way, you stand up straight and wiggle away from the entrance of the tent, allowing Taehyung and Jeongguk to step closer. 

It is Jeongguk who walks all the way into the tent, and something about it makes your skin crawl. You shout, "Wait," and reach for him, but before you can react further, Jeongguk jolts backward and trips over himself, nearly falling to his butt on the grass. 

You think you hear him mutter, "What the fuck?" causing goosebumps to break out on your arms and neck. 

"What is it?" Jimin asks at the same time Taehyung says, "Whoa," and Jeongguk shakes his head and takes two steps backward. 

"That was…" Jeongguk trails off, staring at the tent and then shaking his head and chuckling. Only, the sound is less mirthful and more unsure. "Damn. I need to lay off the drugs."

"What happened?" you ask, walking close to Jeongguk and turning your head to glance into the tent. 

Everything looks normal, but you are unwilling to step any closer to inspect it. The unsettling feeling has only managed to grow. 

"I thought I saw something," Jeongguk says, chuckling with unease some more. "Or, rather…someone? I don't really know."

This makes Jimin sigh loudly and stand up, turning to face you and Jeongguk. "Oh, give me a break," he groans. "You're just trying to scare us."

Jeongguk's face brightens as if he has been caught in the act by Jimin, but there is something in his eyes that seems scared and distant. Still, you remind yourself that the two of you are high, and you are definitely feeling heightened paranoia. 

"Okay, well this has been fascinating," you say, walking slowly backward and away from the entrance. "But I still feel like I might be peaking, and I don't think I can handle any more of these creepy ass tent vibes." 

To your delight, Jeongguk nods and follows you. Jimin seems intrigued by the tent, however, and it appears as though Taehyung is pointing into it, whispering something to Jimin. 

"Should we just ditch them?" you ask, only half joking. 

Jeongguk pulls out his phone and glances at it, then says, "We still have a little time before the illusions show. Wanna get in line for a snow cone? I saw a cart on the way over here."

A snow cone sounds amazing and you nod, feeling relief and excitement replace all the earlier dread. Out of stress, or possibly impatience, but likely the thought of enjoying something new, you chomp down on the grape sucker, crunching it between your teeth. Unsure what to do with the sticky grape-stained stick, you twirl it between your finger and thumb.

When you turn to see whether the other two are following, you are disappointed to find they are still bent at the hips and staring into the tent. 

"We're gonna get snow cones," you try, but Jimin does not react, seemingly stuck in a trance. 

It is Taehyung who glances past Jimin toward you and says, "We'll catch up to you."

Jeongguk shrugs and begins to lead the way, so you follow. With each step you take, the ground feels further and further away, and you are beginning to sweat quite a bit. Jeongguk sways his arms as he walks, and you wonder whether it would feel nice to do the same, but as you approach the paths where more people are, you feel too self-conscious to try it. 

"What did you really see in the tent?" you ask, eyes on your feet as they step from grass to gravel.

"Yoongi hyung," Jeongguk says, causing you to nearly trip over yourself.

You halt and turn to Jeongguk, whose brows are knit and eyes are downcast. His toe kicks at a small rock. 

"Be serious," you mutter. 

Jeongguk looks up at you, frowning. "I am serious."

You roll your eyes, reach for his hand, and begin to yank in the direction of a medium-sized rectangular freezer box covered in ice cream and snow cone stickers that is shaded by a tall red and white umbrella. The person working the stand wears a light blue jacket and slacks that match the color of the freezer box. 

The two of you get in line, and you realize you are still holding hands. Sweat drips from where your palms connect, and you attempt to pull away, but Jeongguk holds on tight. You feel gross as your wet skin slides against his, and you yank a little harder until he lets go.

Your mind wanders to Yoongi. Specifically, to Jeongguk and Yoongi. You wonder whether they hold hands as much as Jeongguk seems to want to hold yours. You like the idea of the two of them being so affectionate toward one another. 

There are two other people in line ahead of you, and you watch as a person in a sunflower sundress reaches for a tall paper cone with a ball of bright red ice on top, grabbing it with two eager hands. The person beside them pays and receives their own snow cone – that one orange – and then you take a step forward as the person ahead of you leans forward to place an order.

"You don't believe me," you hear Jeongguk pout, but it takes a moment for you to acknowledge his voice and realize that he is talking about seeing Yoongi inside the tent.

You snicker. "Of course I don't believe you. Nobody else saw anyone in that tent, much less someone who looked like Yoongi."

The person ahead of you in line steps away, and you and Jeongguk step forward. He orders a small cup of vanilla soft-serve ice cream and you order a lime-flavored snow cone, suddenly feeling drawn to how green it is on the display images. 

The attendant mutters about the total, which you can barely hear over the carnival songs that play nonstop and the shouting of people both near and far. You think you hear that it is 4,000 won, and you reach for your wallet, jabbing yourself in the hip with the sucker stick that you continue to hold onto, but Jeongguk swats your hand away before paying with his card. 

The two of you stand in silence, and you wait for the paper cone filled with ice and syrup to be placed into your hands. You lament briefly over not considering the flavors more closely, wondering if you should have picked a berry flavor over a citrus one. 

But when you take a frozen bite from the top, you are delighted by how bittersweet the lime flavor is – how different it is from the grape that lingers in sticky shards against your molars. It is perfectly refreshing for a hot summer day. 

As you walk away from the ice cream booth, you notice that Jeongguk seems to be moseying in the direction of the larger carnival tents rather than where you left the others back at the small weird tent. You have the urge to look over your shoulder to see whether they are still there, but something causes you to continue forward. Unease, you think, of what you may see if you look back there again.

The thought sends a shiver down your spine, and the little hairs on the back of your neck stand tall. Although the snow cone seems to be evening out your high despite the flavor being incredibly intense, your mind continues to race in strange directions. 

A lot has happened since you arrived here, and as much as you want to dwell on all the oddities and attempt to sort out what could be going on, something seems to be stopping you. It is as if each new event is being shoved into one of the various trunks you have seen inside each tent, and it is being locked away for safekeeping. 

You are aware of what is being placed inside the trunks, but without the key to allow you access to each one, your mind is not fully allowed to perceive anything. The notion that your mind palace has become a circus tent filled with trunks makes you snicker. 

You turn to Jeongguk, who has more or less inhaled his soft serve, using his tiny pink plastic spoon to scrape melted dredges from the bottom of the cup. He tips the edge of the paper cup back into his mouth and slurps the final drops, then lowers his arms to his sides and crumples it in his palm.

Suddenly, you feel self-conscious about the state of your own treat, and you wrap your lips around the small orange straw that sticks out from one of the sides and suck down melted ice and syrup. Cloying lime flavor bursts over your tongue, and you stop sucking in order to bite off some of the top ice that is more diluted in order to wash some of the taste away. 

Jeongguk stops in his tracks, and you look up from your lime-flavored ice as you do the same, turning your gaze to him. His eyes are wide, and he stares ahead.

You glance to where you imagine he is staring, but only see a crowd of people separating you from the tents, which are now just across from you, on the other side of a wide pathway. 

Looking to Jeongguk again, you ask, "What is it?"

"I told you I saw him," Jeongguk responds. He looks at you, lifts an eyebrow, then tilts his chin back to where he had been staring. "Look."

This time, when you follow his line of vision, you clearly see what – or, rather, who – Jeongguk was staring at. Standing beside the nearest red and white striped tent, wearing the same blue shirt and black slacks you last saw him in, is Yoongi. 

He seems to be staring back at you, and you blink heavily several times, unsure whether it really is him. 

Without another word, Jeongguk takes off walking briskly, twisting his body this way and that while narrowly avoiding strangers whose paths he cuts across. Your feet hesitate, then you begin to walk as well, more slowly and excusing yourself before stepping into someone's path, doing your best to keep your eyes on the back of Jeongguk's head and refrain from dropping your snow cone. 

Once you are out into the clearing, on the grass beside the large tent and no longer dodging passersby, you take several quick steps until you are standing beside Jeongguk, whose arms are outstretched and shaking. You feel overwhelmed, the sun is bright, and you squeeze your eyes closed before opening them and taking in the scene before you.

Yoongi stands still staring at Jeongguk, arms to his sides. His shoulders are in Jeongguk's hands, and although Jeongguk shakes Yoongi, shouting something you cannot make out, Yoongi just looks at him blankly, unmoving aside from the jostling he cannot control.

"Say something," Jeongguk demands. He shakes harder, and Yoongi moves along like a ragdoll. "Yoongi! Hyung, say something!"

Everything about this feels wrong. You absentmindedly drop what is left of your snow cone and reach up with two heavy hands to place them on the arm closest to you, yanking it away from Yoongi's shoulder. 

"Stop," you mutter weakly, eyes glued to Jeongguk's arm. "Jeongguk, stop."

Jeongguk drops his arms and then forcefully shakes your hands away from him. The harsh movement surprises you, and you take a step back, dizzy and concerned.

"This has nothing to do with you," Jeongguk says in a tone that feels hurt and angry and a myriad of other things.

You cannot bring yourself to look up, and instead, you stare at Jeongguk's black boots. "That's not— I just don't think you should be jerking him around like this," you say, almost to yourself as tears prickle your eyes.

Jeongguk scoffs. "Our relationship has nothing to do with you." His voice is calmer and quieter, but there is still an edge to it. "You're just a pretty little plaything we both enjoyed. Nothing more."

You shake your head. Jeongguk is understandably emotional, but you will not allow yourself to be pushed away so easily. "No. I care. You can't just—"

Jimin and Taehyung have appeared and are shouting while wrapping Yoongi in a hug. And then, in a blink, the sky is dim. It appears to be evening time, but the air holds the same oppressive heat. 

You feel disoriented from the sudden change and consider sitting down on the lime-sticky ground, but a familiar man clad in white appears before you, and you lift your head to find his head cocked, eyes watching you intently. 

"It is time," Jack says, lifting a hand and pivoting to point somewhat to the right, ahead of you.

You turn your gaze to find one of the Kim brothers rolling back the end of a large red and white tent flap and securing it so that it rests open. A black top hat on his head prevents you from telling which one he is until he lifts his head and his eyes meet yours. 

Namjoon stands clad in red and black. His gaze is soft and attentive and familiar in a way that makes your heart ache.

"Are you ready?" Jack asks. 

Trepidation fills you. "I don't know," you mutter.

Jack laughs. "Come, then," he says, placing his hand on your arm while his other hand continues to point toward the tent opening, which you can see from the periphery; your eyes are still on Namjoon. "No sense in wasting time."

You glance around and realize that Jeongguk and Yoongi are no longer standing nearby. The back of Jeongguk's head is with Jimin and Taehyung just ahead of you, in line to enter the tent, but you do not see Yoongi's tuft of dark hair with them. You attempt to look around, but the group of eager audience members has closed in on your right side, and you are unable to see past anyone.

You decide to keep up with your friends, and as you approach the entrance, Namjoon reaches a hand and takes one of yours. His warmth feels like home, and you stare at your hand in his. 

"After the show, I would like to speak with you," he says. "Come to the tent. Jack or Hoseok will show you the way."

You nod, eyes on Namjoon's hand, which gives yours a squeeze, and then lets go. As you look up, ready to ask why Namjoon wants to see you, he turns in a flash of red velvet and enters the tent ahead of you, walking briskly into the darkness on the left. You are ushered inside and to the right. 

Your group follows the familiar path by rote, along the back of tall wooden bleachers, then to the left and down a path leading to the front row, in an area where nobody else is seated. Seokjin is standing in front of the seats but on the stage floor, speaking with Hoseok, the twin in black. Jack stands on the outside of the row of seats, palm held upward, signaling where to go.

As Jimin settles, then Taehyung, and then Jeongguk, you realize there is definitely no Yoongi. The seat to your left is empty, and it is the last one in the row. You glance around, wondering whether he is off somewhere just in the distance. Perhaps, you think, he will join you once the show starts.

You turn to Jeongguk, who stares down at his open hands. His eyebrows are pinched, and he appears lost. 

"Jeongguk?" you ask, voice low and hushed.

"He just…disappeared," Jeongguk mutters.

You look around, watching as people fill the seats of the tent, then return your gaze to Jeongguk, who is unmoved. "What do you mean?"

Jeongguk blinks several times, then shakes his head in shallow movements. "I was shaking him. Telling him to say something. Anything." His voice is monotone. He almost sounds programmed to speak; emotionless. "Hoseok hyung said something to me, and I turned to look at him for only a moment, and when I turned again, Yoongi was gone. It was like he vanished into thin air."

The notion is so ridiculous, you feel your lips crack into a smile. You want to shove at Jeongguk and tell him to quit the act. "What do you mean, vanished? Your hands were on him. Didn't you feel him go?"

Jeongguk turns his gaze to you. His eyes are filled with tears, and he appears devastated. Your heart sinks at the sight of him – at the gravity of his gaze – and you tear your eyes away, to Seokjin standing about ten feet away on the stage floor watching you. 

Seokjin pulls his black top hat from his head and lowers his gaze as he bows. He wears a dark green jacket that matches Namjoon's red one, and as he stands up straight and places his hat back onto his head, he stares at you, grinning. 

The lights in the tent go out, but you continue to watch Seokjin's grin. A spotlight shines onto the center of the stage, behind Seokjin, and you want to lift your gaze and look – to confirm whether it is Namjoon standing in the spotlight – but your eyes remain glued to the devious smile before you. 

“Come one, come all!” Namjoon's voice calls, booming over the cheers and clapping of the audience. Seokjin lip-syncs along, matching Namjoon's timing perfectly. “Welcome to Carnival Bizarre! The greatest show in the world!”

A symbol crashes, piano keys pound in a cacophonic crescendo of sound, and you look up to find Namjoon standing in the spotlight, arms outstretched, with fireworks bursting and crackling up from his outstretched fingertips. 

When you look back to where Seokjin had just stood, nobody is there. You glance to the left, to the darkness of the bleachers across the path, then behind you as far as you can see, twisting this way and that, but no familiar faces greet you aside from Jeongguk, who watches ahead with tears in his eyes. 

Delicate piano music plays, and Namjoon holds his left arm out in front of him, palm downward. You see something shimmering below his hand, glinting in the spotlight, but you are unable to make out what it is.

A golden glow of light fills the area, not enough to brighten the tent, but enough to allow you to see faint shadows cast all over. They remind you of wooden drawing mannequins with rounded shapes for hands and feet, and ball joints between each limb. 

"Strings," Namjoon says, voice soft but booming in the surrounding speakers. You blink, returning your gaze to him, and you think that you can make out thick, dark strings hanging from Namjoon's fingertips that glimmer in the spotlight. Namjoon dances his fingers up and down, causing the strings to jump and sway, and you stare intently. "I control them with my movements. Small and deliberate. I make them dance."

All around, the silhouettes dance. Their legs spread strangely, and their arms jerk around, showing that they are all being controlled by strings. Your eyes move from left to right, watching the figures move, until you notice something.

To the right of Namjoon is a large dark mass. It is mostly in shadow, hard to make out, and you stare and stare until finally, you realize that it is a large piano. The music that plays throughout the space is predominantly that of a piano, and you squint and strain your eyes, trying to see whether someone is sitting before this one, but you see nobody.

"Will my lovely volunteer please join me?" Namjoon asks, and you tear your gaze back to him, then glance eagerly around the dark tent. 

A new spotlight shines behind Namjoon, just to the right, past the piano. There, a figure stands near an entrance across the way that you imagine could lead to the backstage area. The figure has short, dark hair, but his head is tilted downward. He makes you think of Yoongi.

He wears a dark blue fitted jacket with rows of gold down the front that you imagine may be frog knots – hussar style. But from this distance, feeling as high as you are, it is hard to be certain. 

"Yoongi?" Jeongguk mutters, adjusting in his seat and making you glance to your right. 

Jeongguk frowns, and you open your mouth to speak, but your attention returns to the center of the tent as piano music picks up to a medium tempo and you notice Namjoon moving his hands. 

It appears as if Namjoon is only lifting certain fingers, causing certain strings to respond. And, it appears as if with each movement, one of the legs of the volunteer moves, causing him to walk forward into the space. 

In fact, you think you can see something shimmering in long strings from the tops of the man's black shoes, from the backs of his hands, and from the crown of his head. But as your vision moves upward, the strings seem to disappear. It is some illusion, indeed. 

"Small movements are easy to control with just my fingers," Namjoon says.

He raises his right hand and seems to touch two of the strings hanging from his left. You notice the arms of the volunteer sway. The man truly appears as if he is a puppet being manned by Namjoon, and there is a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that this may not be an illusion. 

Heavy-blinking and shaking your head, you attempt to clear away the errant thoughts and focus solely on the show. Of course, the man is not really a volunteer. Clearly, this is a practiced routine between two actors. 

As the man approaches the piano at the center of the floor, it is hard not to notice all the ways in which he reminds you of Yoongi. The hair seems a little shorter – a little straighter than he had been wearing it. But his broad shoulders and large hands…his lithe waist and long legs…the resemblance is there. 

And then you remember it: the card Seokjin handed you while inside Namjoon's tent. There was a figure with dark brown hair wearing a blue jacket, and he was playing a piano. The bottom of the card read, The Fool.   

"Large movements, however…" Namjoon trails off.

The man stops just before the instrument – which you now realize is an organ. Namjoon raises his right hand at the same time his left hand makes a sudden movement, and all at once, the man lifts his head and a round curtain falls around him and the organ, causing you to gasp. 

Namjoon continues, "Large movements, I must control with my mind."

You sit up straight, holding your breath, certain that it has to be Yoongi behind that curtain. 

"This volunteer of mine is a regular man," Namjoon insists, using his right hand to lift the hat from his head and tip it as he makes a small curtsey motion, showing that he is a man of his word. A gentleman. "He has no formal training, and he has never visited this circus before. He is—"

Namjoon stands up straight and looks forward. You think, directly at you. 

"—a stranger."

There is a harshness to Namjoon's tone that is matched by a solemn note echoing throughout the tent, though you do not think it is from the organ behind the curtain. The music is soft and fleeting, arriving and dissipating for dramatic effect, likely from a soundboard backstage. 

And then, the music is gone entirely. Silence hangs, save for your heaving, anxious breaths.

"Volunteer," Namjoon says magnanimously. You and Jeongguk shift in your seats. "Play Passacaglia in D minor by Dieterich Buxtehude."

The round curtain lifts with the movement of Namjoon's hand, and sitting before you in a blue hussar jacket adorned with golden embroidery, is Yoongi. He begins his song the moment he is commanded to do so, and with the organ angled just so, you can see his hands moving over the keys. Namjoon's right hand sways in small conductor movements, up to the center and down to the side, as if keeping Yoongi's tempo.

Shimmering strings appear to jut out from Yoongi's hands and the crown of his head. You swallow thickly, watching Yoongi play, never making a single mistake, as if he has practiced this song over and over again. All around, in the periphery, you can see that the silhouetted mannequins are dancing.

Your heart is a caged animal thrumming behind your ribs. The song Yoongi plays is somewhat slow-paced, with both bright sounds and sad ones, tugging you between highs and lows, making you feel extremely unsettled. There is a sort of discordant nature to the song that strikes a deep, hollow longing inside you, as well as a sense of hopefulness. 

You wonder whether Jeongguk is as enraptured as you, feeling the same way you may, but you do not turn your gaze. You do not dare so much as blink for fear of Yoongi disappearing again.

"Faster, now," Namjoon commands, moving his hand much more quickly. Yoongi's tempo increases, matching Namjoon's movements. Although you do not take your eyes off Yoongi, it is clear that the shadows are moving faster, too. 

Lights swirl, and there is something like glitter sparkling in the air, threatening to distract you, but you do not fall prey to the petty tricks of the illusionist. You sit on the edge of your seat, elbows digging hard into your upper thighs, mouth dry and hung open, and you watch intently.

"That's it," Namjoon says, speeding his movements again. "Faster, now! Faster!" 

Although you can still hear the song that was playing earlier – can still make out the familiar modular rhythm and predict each sound that comes next – it is harsh and cacophonic. Dizzying. At last, you blink and lick your lips. Your shoulders are tense and raised, and you breathe slowly, nearly holding your breath.

Around you, the shadows are tangled and chaotic, and it is impossible not to avert your gaze whenever a head rolls or a limb snaps. You think you hear wood splintering and cracking, and although Yoongi is made of flesh and bone, you worry for him.

Namjoon shouts, "Enough!" and uses the fingers of his right hand shaped like scissors to cut beneath his left hand, where strings would be hanging from his fingertips. 

Yoongi falls limp and the song ends in an abrupt crash as his hands and forehead meet the keys. You gasp. Beside you, Jeongguk stands up from his seat.

The round curtain falls over Yoongi and the organ, and the spotlight cuts out, leaving just the one on Namjoon glowing. There are no silhouettes on the walls.

All around you, shimmering silver strings fall like snow from the ceiling, landing on your hair and in your lap, draping over your limbs and creating a sort of mist that obfuscates the stage just long enough for everything but Namjoon to disappear. 

Jeongguk looks as if he is about to jump over the shin-high wooden railing and down onto the floor in search of his boyfriend. He grumbles and fights with Taehyung, who appears to be holding him in place and muttering something low and angry. 

On the stage, Namjoon lifts both arms, which are covered in silver strings, and he bows. The audience stands, claps, and cheers. You feel glued to your seat. 

Upbeat organ music plays and the lights come up, but it is only when Hoseok appears clad in black before you, that you move. You heavy-blink, eyes struggling to take in the brightness of the overhead lighting while silver glitters all around you. The air feels heavy and oppressive, and you are suddenly eager to leave.

"Kim Namjoon would love to see the two of you," Hoseok says, eyes trailing between Jeongguk and you. Then he glances further past Jeongguk, to Taehyung and Jimin, adding, "If you don't mind."

You neither hear nor see their responses. Hoseok steps over the wooden railing and walks past you along the path, leading the way. Jeongguk walks without waiting for you, slamming into your right and causing you to trip as you twist to follow. Then he wraps his arms around you, pinning your arms to your sides and steadying you, causing you to flush hot from head to toe. 

Hoseok does not wait, and you hurry ahead, yanking from Jeongguk's arms to make your way along the path. Rather than turning right, to the entrance, he turns left. You follow Hoseok into the darkness, around the inner perimeter of the tent, toward an opening from which a red light glows. 

Your stomach churns, and you swallow the trepidation that builds and builds. Behind you, Jeongguk mutters, "Where are we going?" but you do not have the answer, so you pay him no mind and continue forward. 

Before you can worry further, Namjoon appears in the doorway. His gaze is soft and inviting, causing your worry to dissipate. As if being pulled on a leash, you hurry to him, stopping only when the toes of your shoes meet the tips of his. 

Namjoon looks at you with reverence, smiling softly. Then he looks past you, expression painted over with something more neutral and polite. He nods to Jeongguk, then pivots to walk into the red light. 

"This way," he says, leading you through a hallway to the wall of the tent, which he reaches for and pulls away, revealing the outside world, which is still somewhat dim and feels like the evening. There is another tent opening just across from this one, which Namjoon steps inside of, pausing in its entryway to wait for you and Jeongguk.

You turn in time to see Namjoon pull the tent flap down. You watch as it seemingly disappears and becomes the tent wall; no seams or hems giving its edge away.

"I have something that the two of you must see," Namjoon says, walking toward his desk on the right side. You realize that in the past, you have entered on the opposite end of the tent, and you gaze around at the newfound view, taking in the trunks and clothing to the left, the piles of books to the right, the bed just ahead.

"Where is Yoongi?" Jeongguk insists, walking past you to Namjoon. Jeongguk stands up straight, squaring his shoulders, and you notice a tremor in his balled fists. 

Namjoon appears unfazed and simply blinks at Jeongguk before belatedly offering him a friendly smile. 

"Yoongi is safe. Once he is finished backstage, you will see him again."

"Finished with what?" Jeongguk demands, chest heaving. "What is he doing back there?"

Namjoon turns to face you and lifts a hand, beckoning you forward. You had not realized you stopped walking about halfway, and you slowly make your way toward the two of them, each step feeling heavy. 

You approach and round the desk somewhat, putting the bed behind you, keeping it from view. The bed brings back flashes of Seokjin's hypnosis show and cause your cheeks to burn hot, so you do your best to tamp the images down. Jeongguk stands to your right, anger pouring from him as he waits for a response.

"Take this, ducky," Namjoon says. "Peer into this mirror and tell me what you see."

Sound becomes fuzzy, and you lean forward as Namjoon lifts a mirror from his desk and holds it out to you, cradling it carefully in both hands. It is an oval hand mirror with an ornate brass frame and handle. 

You take the mirror in both hands, gripping it tightly around the handle while the fingertips of your left hand cradle the back. At first, you only see your face. But then, you see something in the reflection behind you, hanging from the ceiling.

Pale limbs are wrapped in bright red rope. The patterns and knots appear artistically done.

"Rope," you mutter, squinting and tilting the mirror past your own face. For a split second, you glance over your shoulder, expecting to see the suspended visitor, but all you see is an empty space beside Namjoon's bed.

Looking at the mirror again, you hold it so close that your breath fogs the glass. You think that you can see dark hair hanging on one side, and pale feet on the other. Once again, the figure you see reminds you of Yoongi. 

"Is that…a body?"

"Yours?" Namjoon asks.

You shake your head. "Not mine."

"Interesting," he says. "Good. This is good."

You look up, over the edge of the mirror, to Namjoon. Silver strings hang from your hair and glimmer over your eyes, and you think about pale limbs wrapped in red rope – about the snowfall of silver strings inside the tent. 

His gaze is on you, and there is an easy smile on his lips. You tilt your head, asking, "What is it?"

Namjoon watches you, eyes slowly darting back and forth as if taking you in and deciding what to say. His soft, familiar gaze returns and your body yearns for him. Curiosity and arousal simmer through you, and you cannot help but stare directly into his dark brown eyes – sharp as a dragon's but deep as the sea.

"Try as I may to weave the strands together in any order I wish," Namjoon responds, lips down turning to a gentle frown, "you are the one who chooses the order of the strands. I am merely a conduit."

Namjoon's words roll over you in a tall, slow wave. They crash, covering you and breaking around your feet, only to dissipate into nothing. He is speaking in sentences you should be able to parse easily – uses phrases that some part of you understands. 

But you know that there must be a deeper meaning, and that part of you who you are certain knows what that meaning is, feels buried, somehow, and all you can do is blink owlishly and mutter, "Huh?"

Namjoon laughs a soft quiet sound that dies in his mouth but twists his lips into a beautiful, genuine smile. You stare, confused as ever, waiting for some sort of explanation. 

"Jeongguk," Namjoon says instead, reaching for the mirror and taking it from your grasp. 

You feel caught in a daze as you allow the mirror to be taken, putting up no resistance. Your arms fall limply to your sides.

Jeongguk does not handle the mirror with care. Rather, he grips it on both sides, thumbs digging into the glass as he peers into it. At first, he appears angry and impatient. But then his eyes widen with fear, and his hands begin to shake. 

"Jeongguk?" you ask, stepping forward. 

Jeongguk shakes harder, his grip on the mirror turning his fingers white. You reach for it, but stop your movement when you hear the sharp sound of the glass cracking.

Namjoon lets out a sigh and says, "Oh, dear."

You glance from Namjoon to Jeongguk and notice a jagged red line opening across Jeongguk's forehead, over the bridge of his nose, and down to his cheek. Jeongguk gasps, lets out a crazed shout, and opens his hands. 

"This is no good," Namjoon says as the mirror crashes to the floor. 

* * *

My blossoms are falling What a strange feeling When it's so early in the year As soon as they are flowers They go and leave forever Sweet blossom Where is your tree? * Their happiness will shine Their happiness will grow And I hope you don't mind if I let them go

🎵 visit the playlist!

HELLOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 💜💜💜 i am no longer going to promise to be back sooner bc it is always a lie. 💀 i had the writer's block/getting straight As/grief trifecta all year, but i am............well, i shouldn't even say it bc i don't wanna jinx it but i hope i am back??? god, this chapter was so much fun to write and it genuinely invigorated something so 🤞🤞🤞 fingers fricken crossed.

POLLS WILL GO UP SOON!!! i only have one so far that is planned, but i am going to outline a bit and see what other fates i can place in your hands. polls will run for 7 days and i will do my best to reblog!!!

thanks for your patience. i love you. i have missed you.

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS MEAN THE WORLD, AND LIKES ARE APPRECIATED, TOO!!! STAY HYDRATED. 🤍

tags will be in a separate reblog! 🎪 visit the master post to read the disclaimer & request to be tagged! tag list includes the polls!!!

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Carnival of Terror is a Goosebumps-inspired fic, copyright theharrowing 2023 - 2024. no translations or reposting allowed!

[satrs]

Hiiiii so this is like my first time asking on here and I REALLY REALLY like the stuff you write like it's definition of art at its finest 🤌(idk if that made sense) anywayyyy could I maybe get a lil beach episode scenario of blue lock characters x reader if possible or it could be one dude oh also I don't rlly care abt it being angst or fluff or whatever lol go crazy if you want

K that's all thx for taking the time to read this have a good day or night and random reminder from a random stranger to rest if needed

Have a good one girlllll🤜💥

HEYY I‘m really glad you like my stuff tysm<33!!

I decided too make it with 4 of the „main“ ones‼️ It's overall fluff! I hope that’s alright 🫶🏾

Alright so I tried I hope you enjoy!^^ Hope you have an amazing day/night/morning😘😘‼️

ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ ʙᴀʙʏ!

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴅᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟᴜᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴋ ɢᴜʏꜱ!

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 1.2k

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; Bachira Meguru. Kunigami Rensuke. Chigiri Hyoma. Nagi Seishiro.

ᴛᴀɢꜱ; fluff, swearing. established relationship. a littleeee bit suggestive. nicknames. a bit aquaphobia(?). (exhibitionism?).

ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ! // ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰʀᴇᴀᴅ!

BACHIRA MEGURU.

He is so goofy.

Playing around with the sunscreen while applying it on your back, dragging you into the cold water right after you got out to dry yourself and building big sand castles, as if he was a little child. 

But that was what you loved about him, his carefree and happy persona, shining brighter than the sun itself. 

"Baby~, I'm sorry! Come back, please!", Bachira called out to you. "No, you're not Meguru! I told you I don't like getting my head dunked into the water and you still did it!", you turned around, pissed off by his antics.

But as you saw his little pout, you couldn't possibly be mad at him anymore. Just to keep your pride, you turned back, making your way onto the soft sand of the beach to hide the smile that slowly made its way onto your lips. 

"I was just playing", he whined, quick to catch up with you. He placed both of his hands on your hips in an attempt to stop your movements, placing soft kisses onto the length of your neck.

You turned your head towards him, meeting with his bright orbs, causing you to giggle, hushing him away.

He smiled right back at you, hot on your trail as you ran away from him in a playful manner, the both of you giggling while grinning from ear to ear. 

It didn't take him long to catch you, lifting your body and spinning you around, earning a giggle from your soft lips. “Ha! Caught you~", he played, now holding you in bridal style, sprinting back into the water with you.

Before you could wiggle yourself out of his hold, you felt the cold water surrounding your body, causing you to yelp.

Bachira giggled at your action, holding you close to him with one hand on your hip while peppering kisses all over your face, infecting you with his goofy and lovestruck giggles.

Both of you are so goofily in love with each other.

KUNIGAMI RENSUKE.

"Not so far from the shore, Ren!", you yelped, noticing how the beach seemed to dissapear further and further away into the distance.

"What if there is a shark or something!? This is dangerous!", you panicked, careful too completely be on the floating mat.

Kunigami chuckled at your panicking state, "Don't worry princess. Your hero is here to protect you from all the nasty sea monsters", he stated, causing you to cringe at his statement.

"Yeah, yeah. You wouldn't be able to stand a chance against a big ass shark!", you yelped when he quickly moved the mat, drawing you near him, "I'm hurt. You don't trust me pretty?", he played a soft pout onto his face.

"Not right now when you're almost dragging me into this deep ass water! Let go!", you fantically tried your best to stay on the mat.

"Alright."He let go of you, causing you to fall into the water head first. You quickly swam to the surface, clinging your arms onto the floating mat, desperately trying to get back on it. "You asshole! Get me back on there now!", you screamed, watching in terror as the orange-haired male laughed.

"But you told me too let go?", he inquired while holding onto the mat, mere inches behind you, only irritating you further.

"Kunigami Rensuke!", you threatened him, "Alright, alright. I got you, princess."

With one quick movement your leg swung over the mat, causing you to calm down. But you soon let out a loud yelp as Kunigami's hand came in comtact with your ass, feeling a light sting.

His face drew near yours, earning a flustered look in return.

"You're so hot when you're angry, pretty."

CHIGIRI HYOMA.

"That's enough, Y/N", he joked. "No. I don't want you to catch sunburn. I know how you catch them so easily." Your voice was laced with worry, rubbing the sunscreen on the same spot on his back for the past five minutes. 

He let out a loud sigh, standing up and walking onto one of the sun benches where his belongings were placed.

"W-wait! I'm not done yet Hyoma!" he ignored you, tying his hair into a high bun, making his way into the water. "Hyo!", you called to him in frustration, throwing the sunscreen into the sand, following him quickly. 

He sighed as his skin made contact with the water, dipping his head into it quickly to feel refreshed, swiping some of the hair that fell into his face out of the way. 

You watched him, arms crossed while frowning. He noticed your intense stare, turning in the water to look at you, "and where is your sunscreen, little miss perfect?", he noted, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. You forgot.

He chuckled at your reaction, motioning you to join him, "C'mon, it doesn't matter anymore. Plus, the water is pleasantly warm right now."

You complied, tapping your way towards him, standing in the water, being covered by bits up to the bottom of your breasts.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, placing a quick kiss on his lips, "You're such a bad boy", you joked, a smirk playing itself onto his lips. 

"Am I now?", he teased, hand moving onto your rear, softly squeezing it. You wrapped one of your legs around him, motioning him near you, humming in response.

"Mommy look! they're all touchy-touchy with each other!", a young boy pointed his finger at the two of you, multiple heads turning in your direction, causing you to retreat away from him, face flushed red.

Chigiri chuckled at your action, following you out of the water. He noticed his shoulders slightly burning, also turning a bit red.

Shit, he should've let you put on that damn sunscreen.

NAGI SEISHIRO.

How did you get that boy to the beach? Well, you didn't really know yourself. 

He didn't want to, even after endless begging and pleading with him. But then a thought struck him like lightning:

You. At the beach. Bikini. 

This thought made his sleepy eyes shoot wide open, jump off the bed, quick to walk right behind your trail.

As the two of you arrived, his happy mood threatened to disappear as he noticed that your bikini was nowhere in sight. 

"Where is your bikini?", he bluntly asked, his voice laced with disappointment. You giggled at his words, taking the end of your sundress in hand, lightly lifting it up to flash him your undergarments.

His breath hitched, flashing you an expecting look, wondering when the fuck you would finally-

"You first, then me. I know you, Sei'." What a hassle. You're right. You knew if you would bare your swimwear before him now, he would pull you on top of him, feeling up your body and not letting you go until the sun disappeared behind the moon.

So, to be able to make your day at the beach, you had to get him into the water first. 

Nagi was quick to understand, stripping down into the swim boxers he wore underneath, taking the swimming noodle in hand, waiting for you like a puppy for its owner. 

Finally, you took off that annoying sundress of yours. He was quick to shamelessly gawk at your beautiful figure, only snapping out of his thoughts when you took his hand in yours, dragging him into the direction of the water.

"C'mon! Let's take a quick swim, then I'm all yours~", you purred, causing him to stumble in the sand from your quick steps.

What a hassle.

ᵃˡˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ k-azus.°

[emptywwwriting]

Morning Patrol

Paring: Jackson!Joel Miller x Fem! reader

Summary: It's your first patrol shift since you joined Jackson. When your friend, Jesse, calls out sick you have to go on the patrol alone with Joel Miller.

Warnings: Horrible Writing, HUGE age gap (33 years LOL), reader smokes cigs,  reader is also lowkey a horse girl (shut up), smut will be added, edited this @ 3am sry for mistakes lol, no use of y/n

A03 Link: Morning Patrol

Word Count: 3.8k omg...

First writing ever. I'm sorry if it sucks LOL. I wrote this because I’ve been replaying TLOU2 and it re-awoken my love for these characters.

Idk if I will make this a story or not, it depends on the feedback I get. Correct my grammar/spelling if you see anything wrong, feedback is much appreciated. Also, this is a no-Ellie AU not for any reason, in particular, I just didn’t know how to combine her storyline into this. Please read the warnings!!

It's freezing this time of year, cold frosted winds that are carried by the slopes of the mountains swirl the small town of Jackson, freezing everything over. Even the small wooden stove that usually warms your bones isn't cutting it. Yet you have to stop your eyes from fluttering close while you sit next to the open flame. With only your undergarments to cover you, you're balled up as small as possible sitting on the floor next to the heat. Your alarm had gone off 15 minutes ago, but you’d been procrastinating since. It’s your first patrol shift ever since Jackson took you in nearly 4 months ago. This idea was suggested, rather drunkenly, by Tommy at a bonfire just last week.

…

“It’s about time you start pulling your weight here,” Tommy mumbled with a beer resting on his lips, tilting his head towards you.

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze angrily.

Jesse had arranged a get-together by a bonfire following a town event, inviting Tommy, Joel, Dina, and a few other lookout guards. The hangout was calm, warm, and cozy, with everyone sitting around enjoying their drinks, sharing funny stories, and discussing unusual experiences. As a fairly new member of the town, you were unfamiliar with most of the people there. Jesse, who had played a key role in bringing you into Jackson, made sure to introduce you to Dina, with whom you had formed a close bond. She introduced you to the wonderful team of people who manage all of the horses that Jackson uses. Having grown up around animals, and having extensive knowledge of them, you felt right at home. 

However, not everyone was as friendly. Tommy, in particular, seemed to have a strong dislike for you. Ever since the night shift had found you, he had been suspicious of your presence in the town. Tommy constantly questioned you about your past, making you feel like a criminal rather than a newcomer just trying to fit in. While you understood the need for caution in a town as advanced as Jackson, Tommy's suspicions seemed to linger longer than necessary, this pissed you off. Despite your efforts to become a part of the community and form relationships with Jackson’s people, his distrust towards you made it difficult. You couldn't help but feel like an outsider, even when you are trying to enjoy a casual gathering. 

Jesse let out a cough next to you in an attempt to break the tension. Tommy’s brother, sitting next to him, didn't look away from his bottle, staring awkwardly into the brown glass. Jesse adjusted himself upright in his chair and began.

“I mean you can always come with us on a morning patrol shift… if you feel like it of course,” he added quickly, before staring into his own beer bottle.

You hummed in response. 

Still mad at Tommy, you shoot him another hidden glare before finishing your drink quickly.

“I think it would be a good start for you, hell of an early shift but usually a quiet one.” He looks over at you. “Just me and Joel now, another person couldn't hurt.” Jesse finishes.

Tommy's brother, Joel, grunts from across the fire agreeing.

You stare into the open flame thinking about his words.

“You up for it?” Jesse prods.

“Yeah, I'll do it.” You reply.

Tommy lets out a huff but you choose to ignore it. 

Still basking in the awkwardness from Tommy's comment, Dina and Jesse yawn and start collecting their stuff murmuring their goodbyes to the rest of the group surrounding the fire. Tommy and Joel stomp out the flames before falling into quiet conversation, as you follow Dina and Jesse towards the housing strip.

…

You finally force yourself to get up, the cold air wraps around your body as the stove's heat leaves your skin, you quickly get dressed. Sliding your thickest sweatshirt over your head and thick pants onto your legs. Stepping into your boots, you grab a beanie, gloves, and your backpack, making sure that your revolver is with you. After extinguishing the stove's flame, you exit your house and start down the quiet road.

You thought that things were quiet at night, they are even more quiet at four in the morning. Not a soul is awake at this hour, you've never seen the streets of Jackson so still. None of the town's Edison bulbs were on, only the occasional lamp that came from a house's window illuminated your path. Your mind wanders to the patrol, and you recall how just yesterday Jesse called out sick. A horrible stomach flu had torn its way through Jackson, particularly the school kids and teachers. Jesse got it after participating in a snowball fight with the school children, and Dina was now stuck taking care of him.  You had been sick with it nearly a week ago, the aftereffects still haunting your body. Your stomach gurgled with hunger, feeling as if it had sunk in. Chills racked your body at night, but you had no fever and could keep food down, sometimes. You didn't want to leave Joel to do the patrol alone, even though you know he could.

You have never talked with Joel before, just knew of him. His gruffness made itself apparent when he entered a room. He is a very respected man in the small town and it makes you feel like you know him to an extent. You have to admit that his large size and powerful aura make you slightly scared of him, yet it intrigues you even more. You often catch yourself staring at his aged and calloused hands gripping a beer bottle, or while cleaning his gun, and would have to force yourself to look away; But for such a strong and large man he was so quiet. It made you nervous to go on patrol with him. It's not that you dread the patrol itself, nor does it mean you don't want to be alone with him, but you dread the awkwardness of it.

You are both very quiet people, it's bound to get awkward. With someone chatty like Dina, you could rely on her for conversation for hours, and there would never be a dull moment. But with Joel? Who knows.

Finally, you arrive at the greenhouses which are next to the exit of Jackson. In the moonlit shadows, you see Joel, hand near his mouth, a lit cigarette between his fingers. The tip of the cigarette glowing red illuminating his face in an auburn glow. The sight makes your stomach flip, or maybe it's the virus. He catches your eye as you approach, now a few feet from him.

“Mornin.” He mumbles, voice groggy with sleep.

“Morning” You offer back sounding weak.

His peppered beard nearly sparkles in the dim light, his nose sculpting his face beautifully. Towering over you even at a distance.

Fuck he’s hot.

“We should head out a little early today so I have time to show you all our check-in spots,” He says after another puff.

“Sounds good to me!” You say eagerly, slightly embarrassed at your peppiness. 

He tosses the cigarette into the snow, before stepping on it with his boot, turning away from you and towards the gate. You're suddenly very thankful for Jesse's illness, given now you get to be alone with possibly the hottest man you have ever seen. 

Fumbling for the key he unlocks the gate, before having to open a set of precautionary doors, that you remember entering just a few months ago after night patrol found you nearly dead.

“Watch your step.” Joel throws back at you as you exit the final gate and start up a path of icy rocks.

“Got it.” You retort.

Looking up you can see the moonlit glow of the frozen rocks, a long path up into the cover of the forest. It's eerie, too quiet, and too steep. You would not know what to do without Joel here. Even though his presence puts your mind at ease, it's still terrifying while dark. You had almost forgotten what it's like to not be in Jackson. A whole year of struggling to survive on your own forgotten in a handful of months.

I’m spoiled. You think.

You know Jackson has spoiled you but it's not like you don't deserve it.

 The thoughts of your life before, outside the walls of Jackson, creep into your mind and you become nauseous.

“How long will we be out here?” You ask, trying to get your mind back to Joel.

“Well-” He sighs. “Depends on how many stragglers we have to get through. If the weather holds up and there's nothing out of the blue, the whole watch will be about 8 hours.” 

“Eight hours?” You repeat shocked.

“Yep, a whopping eight hours.” He says sarcastically. “Forget how you outbreak, kids never worked a normal job.” He chuckles to himself.

“I was born as soon as the outbreak started, I think that's hard enough.” You say smiling. He huffs.

“I’d take eight-hour shifts over an infection any day.” You smile.

“Yeah me too.” He replies.

It's quiet again and the awkward tension seeps back in making you more uneasy. The sound of his boots crunching the snow under him fills the air, and you're now closer to the woods. You follow Joel a few feet back, studying his frame while he can't see you. 

Why can’t you think of anything to say and why is he so quiet? You pray for Joel to say something, anything, and when he doesn't, you force yourself to talk.

“Do you like your shifts with Jesse?” 

“Jesse's good, a little woman crazy but he's fine. At least he's a good shot.” He lets out a huff.

“Yep, that sounds like Jesse.” you smile to yourself.

The conversation goes silent again and you begin to wonder if it's just this awkward in your head. The path evens out as you enter the brush, and Joel turns his flashlight on, illuminating the now even darker path. As the forest thickens the moon becomes less and less of a help, your eyes strain, trying to make out the terrain. 

Crunch Crunch Crunch

Focusing on the sounds of snow and wind you space out, now trying to ignore the awkwardness between you.

“How old did you say you were?” 

you didn't 

Joel asks awkwardly.

“Twenty-five.” You reply, 

“Jesus.” He says under his breath.

“How old did you say you were?” You ask playfully.

He laughs, seemingly embarrassed.

“Too old.” He says shortly.

You laugh and begin walking closer behind him. When finally in the complete cover of the woods Joel climbs up onto a large rock, one nearly bigger than you. After getting himself up right, he reaches a hand down to you. He looks majestic like this, so tall above you looking down with a rough and large hand extended. Even his thick wool coat can't fully conceal how large his biceps and chest are. You want to take a picture of him. 

Him saying your name, snaps you back into reality, grabbing his hand quickly, he hoists you up onto the rock. His powerful tug launches you faster than you expected. Your foot lands on a chunk of ice and you slip slightly before he holds you up with the hand he was holding. Dangling from his strong  grip you quickly try to find some kind of footing grunting in pain.

His other hand comes down to the collar of your clothing grabbing it and pulling you up. You reach for his arms for stability and take a breath before opening your eyes to look up at him. You're a mess, knees weak, one arm on his bicep the other on his flexed forearm staring up at him like a hurt puppy. You snap your head back down and release him, brushing yourself off. He slowly lets go of your jacket collar and hand before huffing out a chuckle

“Told you to be careful.” He beams down at you.

Your face is so red it's warming you in contrast to the freezing night air.

“Not my fault you flung me over the rock.” You laugh lightly looking down to hide your face. Not only were you red but you are trying to hide the grimaces you are making from the shooting pain in your ankle.

“Whatever you say darlin'.” He laughs.

And, oh that made your stomach do actual flips. You freeze as he starts down the path again, you're trying to comprehend the nickname, and why it sounded so good coming from his lips.

Darlin’....

 Shaking your head you follow after him promptly. The wind picks up and your hair starts whipping onto your already red cheeks. It is cold, and the wind makes you feel even more miserable. Joel's hair, which had only grown since you joined Jackson, moved in the crisp breeze, he seemed to notice the wind picking up, and he started walking faster.

“I think we are getting caught in a storm.” He says defeatedly, pushing forward into the dark night. 

Your heart drops as you push to keep up with the older man who is somehow faster than you, your ankle screaming at you to stop.

“Let's turn back.” You suggest sighing, you pause for a moment to take the weight off of your foot. 

This earns a quick,

“No, too far back, we are closer to the first check-in.” His voice becomes more strained as the terrain gets more steep and the wind picks up. You quickly start following after him again, in a limp.

“How much further?” 

“Half a mile.” Joel quips.

“Focus on the trail. The wind is getting stronger, we have supplies at the check-in and can camp out there until day shift comes.” 

His strong legs take large strides up the mountain. You continue to follow, the wind nearly knocking you over at some points. The gusts of icy air start picking up fallen snow, blurring everything in a cloud of white dust. Your ankle only seems to be feeling worse as each twist and turn gets harder and harder to trek. In a panic, you grab Joel's backpack so as not to lose him. He yells something at you about the path you think, but you can't hear, the wind is screaming in your ears too loudly. Your ankle feels warm. Twigs and branches snap, each making you jump, you slip only slightly, catching yourself before continuing hot on Joel's trail. Your knuckles are white from the grip you have on his bag. Frozen in place. 

Finally, you see the outline of a shed, Snow, and ice slinging into the side of it from the wind. You see the back of Joel's head raise as he spots the structure before his pace picks up even more and you're practically being dragged. Noticing this he blindly reaches back, taking hold of your forearm and dragging you to the front of him, his warm chest pressed against your back. The wind slams into him, blocking it from you. He pushes you slowly, now noticing your limp. Step by step you make your way to the wooden shed. You hear him breathing ruggedly in your ear, your gasp and breaths fill the air along with his. Finally at the door moving you to the side yet not taking his hands off you he opens the door and shoves you inside. The sound of whirling wind, snow, and branches snapping disappears outside of the dark room, muffling the chaos nearly completely. 

Joel puts a large wood plank in the shed's lock and takes a deep breath before turning to you. He looks you up and down.

“You okay? You slipped a few times pretty good back there.” He sighs trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah, I think I'm good.” You breathe deeply and try to think. “I twisted my ankle a little though.” You sigh.

Throwing down your heavy bag you plop down on the dirt floor next to it. You definitely did something more than twist it because the pain is radiating up into your knee, making it hard to hide your discomfort. 

Inside the shed is small, there's enough room for you, Joel, and a small stove with a plastic crate filled with what looked like ammo and food and first aid, underneath it. Joel looks down at you and you meet his gaze. The feeling of his chest against your back lingers on your skin and in your thoughts. You push your thighs together and look away, hoping he can't read your mind. He kneels in front of you grabbing your ankle suddenly.

“Shit!” You hiss trying to pull your leg back up to your body.

He takes hold of your leg again, this time underneath your knee. You move around trying to find a comfortable position.

“Stop squirming, I need to look at your ankle.”

As he wishes you hold as still as possible as he pulls your pant leg up and begins to untie your boot. Gently he slides off the shoe and pulls your sock off halfway. Unveiling your ankle beat red and swollen. Joel cringes at the sight of it and gently puts your leg back on the ground. Reaching behind himself he grabs the plastic tote and opens it looking for what you assume to be painkillers.

“It's really not that bad, I'll be okay, just need to lay off it for a bit.” You sound defeated.

“We have pain killers in here, you can-” 

You cut him off “I'm okay, and I'm not wasting Jacksons supplies.”

He looks at you, at your ankle, and then slowly up your body. 

“You're not going to be able to walk back down with that.” He says.

You go to disagree with him but you stop yourself because you know he's right, there's no way in hell.

“Im sorry, I-” 

“Not your fault.” He cuts you off and places the small crate at your legs for you to prop your foot on.

“I know I just- I feel like the town already doesn't like me, hell I know Tommy doesn't. And I just don't want to be a problem.”

“Tommy’s a paranoid old man,” He begins. “I love my brother but his suspicions get the best of him sometimes, he loves Jackson, and wants to keep it safe, don't take it personal kid.” His eyes show you his sincerity, and you look down, still ashamed.

He looks up at you saying nothing sympathy written across his face. He groans as he gets up from his knees now looking down at you, examining.

“I hope day shift brings up a horse. We gon’ have to carry you if not.” 

You cringe at the thought of the issues you're causing but know he's right.

“As for this storm,” He walks around the room and cracks the door open slightly before having to slam his body on it to get the wind to stop pouring through. 

“Yeah-” He breathes heavily, locking the door back. “That's gonna hold up for a while.” He puts his fingers on the bridge of his knows like he's trying to figure out what to do.

Joel then spends the next twenty minutes doing something you may call nesting. As you watch, you can sense the anxiety pouring off him. He paces back and forth, seemingly unable to calm down. While he doesn't say anything, the worried look on his face speaks for him. It's as if he's trying to distract himself from the nervousness that looks to be consuming him. He checks and double-checks the locked door, and starts a fire in the small stove, he meticulously tends to it. The pacing continues, with Joel occasionally glancing at the door, as if expecting the weather to magically change.

At this point you're lying on the ground head on a Joel’s pack, just staring into the fire.

“Jesus sit down Joel.” You finally tell him, getting tired just from watching him.

He pauses his pacing and looks at you as if he didn’t know he was even doing it. Mumbling an apology, he walks over to you and sits against the wall a foot or two from your head. You two sit in silence for a while, listening to the fire crackle what sticks were left in there, while the wind whistles through the small shed.

“You got any more of those cigarettes you had earlier?” You ask shyly, like you are doing something bad. You meet his gaze craning your neck up while he looks down confused and surprised.

“Didn't know you smoke” He huffs, reaching into the backpack under your head, he grabs a small white beat-up box and pulls from it, a neatly home-rolled cigarette.

You hum, admiring his strong hands digging through the box.

“Don't tell on me.” You smile looking at him sheepishly. He rolls his eyes before sticking the cigarette in his mouth and bringing a match to the end of it, lighting it and inhaling deeply. Taking it from his mouth he brings the cigarette to your lips until you open them, sticking it between them. Your stomach does cartwheels as he focuses on your lips wrapped around the smoke. Inhaling deeply you lock eyes, staring back into his. He takes the cigarette in front you and lets it rest in his hand as you both exhale.

“How long until they come for us?” You sigh after gently taking the cigarette from Joel’s hand and sticking it in your mouth again.

“Day shift starts at 1:30, and it’s still dark out,” He takes the smoke from you and takes a drag before exhaling.

“So we still have a while sweetie.”

You hide the smile that forces its way to your face by adjusting your body so that your head is now closer to his thigh.

You both take turns puffing on the cigarette until it gets too short to hold, Joel tosses it into the stove, and wipes his hands on his pants. You however are plotting on how to get closer to him. Too shy to say anything, but too desperate to not be closer you casually scoot up more and place your head on his thigh before turning away from him, pretending to get comfy. He gets stiff at this and you get nervous.

shit was that too much?

Frozen in fear you listen and wait. Slowly he relaxes and you hear his head thump against the wall. You let a breath out you didn’t know you were holding, and begin to relax. It was nearly 15 minutes later when you started to hear a small grumble coming from the man under you, he was snoring. You smiled to yourself, proud that you had managed to lay on him and not weird him out, maybe he likes it as much as you do. When he wakes up you'll think about testing your luck again, for now though, you need to rest. Closing your eyes you drift to sleep on his thigh, thinking about his hands all over you.

Edit: Chapter 2 will be coming out soon, be on the look out!

[forthelostones]

𝚙𝚝.𝚘𝚗𝚎 ; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ─── ⋆

⟡⋆˙୨ᥫ᭡. 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚞 - 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ᥫ᭡.୧⋆˙⟡

synopsis: abby was a woman whose presence was becoming deeply irresistible to you. in your final year of nursing school, you toil with the idea of pursuing her — ruin what you have or enjoy what’s in front of you?

warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!abby (eventually), mini slowburn, suggestive language, jealousy, nora & mel ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parental death, nickname: dummy, and modern au - pre-established relation.

an: hi everyone, waaaa thanks for all the follows! i appreciate you all sooo soo much. this is something i just thought of idk, maybe a series who knows! i am thinking abt putting this on ao3 too!

(no y/n)

wc: 2.4k

The noise you dreaded hearing the most pulled at your heart, jolting you wide awake at 4:45 a.m. You roll over to the screaming phone and detonate your alarm for clinical. Not even one minute later you get a message from your neighbor, Abby, who is also your classmate. 

Anderson: Rise and shine Dummy. 

In the final year of your nursing program, every day became harder. You feel your body morph back into the cavernous mark you left in the mattress, so warm, you could just… You let your heart settle before you toss your feet off the edge of your mattress, tuck your feet into your slippers, and head to the bathroom. You couldn’t risk the temptation of laying back in bed. On clinical days you were the most nervous but it felt real, like what you had been working towards was actually obtainable. These days were also the longest, so mentally preparing for that was a large part of your success. 

You slip your legs into your light blue scrubs and grab your backpack that was heavy with supplies. Flickering all the lights off and then slipping into your shoes you open the door to find Abby in the corridor at 5:20, ready to head out. You pull your hand over your hair in an attempt to parry any imperfections you might’ve missed in the mirror. She had her keys laced in between her fingers, peering down at her watch. Her scrubs were pressed and well-fitted, hugging her thighs comfortably and falling just above her ankle. Her arms bulged out of the cap-sleeved top complimented with a slick back bun, and her badge attached at the hip, perfectly placed. Meanwhile, you were struggling to find clean scrubs this morning, do your hair, and search for your badge floating in the mess called your backpack. 

“Ready?” She muttered. 

You just nodded your head with your eyes fluttering, fighting off any lingering sleep. 

Ever since freshman year, you have been deeply inspired by Abby. She always aced her tests and made it her mission to become a real nursing student. Which sometimes meant taking on more than she could chew. In one of your entry levels, sophomore term, you became her patient — or dummy — for the year. Your professor explained the patient's situation and you sat limply, very anxious. 

“Anderson, go ‘head.” Your professor spat. 

“Hello, I’m Nurse Anderson, I’m here to take some vitals.” 

You just nodded your head as her large hands reached for her stethoscope, heading towards your back. 

“Come on you need to be a better dummy than that.” Your professor said. 

Her comment made Abby break character and laugh, since then, you’ve been her Dummy. 

You settled into the passenger seat, letting the familiar scent of pine infiltrate your senses. On clinical days Abby insisted on driving you both to the sites. Abby was meticulous about everything and you noticed that early on. Her car was in pristine condition, even though it wasn’t very new. There was no trash or any misplaced items, it was faultless, and it baffled you how she kept up with life and school. 

“Wanna review notes?” She suggested. 

“No, I didn’t get any sleep last night I was studying for Pharma. Didn’t finish the midterm study guide we made until 1 a.m.” 

“Shit. Today’s gonna be rough for you.” She said, pushing the button to start the car and turning the heat on, which made you sleepier. The sun wasn’t even peaking out yet, and you cuddled up to the window listening to Abby mutter off terminology that turned into nothingness as you fell into a sleepy abyss. 

“Dummy. Hey, we’re here.” She said tapping your thigh. 

You had really fallen asleep and were embarrassed at how deeply and easily it happened. The sun was dull in the sky and you shuddered at the cool air as you opened the door. 

The NICU was peaceful. A few of your classmates were cooing over the babies with the instructor, while Abby was observing and taking notes while they were talking. 

“Sorry, another question —" she’d probed, with her iPad in hand. Watching her scribble small annotations and pictures distracted you. Her brows would dip into each other, mentally absorbing every small detail, you just stared at her until she caught you. 

“You’re staring again.” She’s said many-a-times. 

“Anderson, can you send me your notes after?” Mel asked as we packed up our book bags to head out of the hospital. Of course, Abby obliged, even though she and Mel were coveted enemies, she would photo-copy them and email her notes anyway. 

“I don’t know why you even entertain her.” You whispered. 

“I feel bad, she’s struggling, least I can do is help her out.” She shrugged. 

Back at your apartment building Abby invited you to her to drink a little, and you couldn’t say no. Due to the fact that you lived next to each other and that Abby was introverted, you were one of her few friends. But then again you didn’t know much about her outside of being classmates. You changed into sweats and then walked into Abby wearing a tank top and grey shorts. The white, ribbed fabric clung perfectly to her chest, exposing the outlines of her upper body, hugging the cusps of her breasts. Which made you lock your eyes sweetly onto her without fault. She had set out two glasses and brought a bottle of wine to the coffee table in front of the TV. 

Her apartment was cozy, the temperature was perfect, it always smelled nice, and the warm lighting was inviting. You sigh as you join her on the couch, it felt good to sit down, not to mention on something other than your shitty couch. She grinned as she handed you the glass. 

“Now what’s this?” You smirk. 

“Just Prosecco, to start.” 

You both keep eye contact as you take the first sips. Her lips perched onto the edge of the glass and while she was staring into your eyes, they drifted slightly downwards to the pinky pillows on her face. She raised her eyebrows and peered into her glass with a nod of approval. 

“I think today went well, I wouldn’t mind —"  

“No school talk.” You interject.

“Oh, so now you wanna be like friends?” She smirked. 

“I mean…” You trail.

She shrugged as she took another sip. “It’s not. I’m pretty boring.” 

“Come on, talk to me.” 

She was pressed into the opposite corner of the couch, but you felt inclined to lean in more and inch closer to her body. She tucked her leg under herself, so you really saw the stretch of her willpower. Her quads leading up to her thighs were sucking you in like a lazy river guiding you to her estuary. 

“Well, I hit a new number at the gym.” 

“Is that why you’re wearing this little number tonight?” 

Her face turns pink as she turns her head away in guilt. You watched her break into a nervous laugh pressing her lips together tightly. 

“What’s the point if I can’t gloat?” 

You both share a silence for a moment before she composes herself as she feels the heat of your eyes on her. Your vision trailed from her thighs back to her warm eyes. Her fingers turn white while she pinches the stem of the glass. 

“You make it hard to look away, so I don’t blame you.” 

“See, I told you I’m boring.” She said ignoring your comment. 

“I guess I’m curious to see what goes on in that brain of yours. How can you be so put together and still be sane while everyone else is drowning? I admire you so much but I think you’re fucking crazy.” 

She reaches up to her scalp to remove the ponytail holder that held back her blonde locks. Her hair falls just above her chest in a long bob, perfectly cut, not a wrinkle from the hair band anywhere.

“My dad was a surgeon so I guess I became familiar with his lifestyle while growing up. He was crazier than me, super detailed, borderline obsessive,” She glanced toward the ground. “He’s the reason I’m here.” 

“Is he still working or did he retire.” 

She dipped her head down and sipped the last dribbles of her wine, “He passed away a while ago. Just before I came to university.” 

“Abs, sorry.” 

You didn’t have the right words, no one ever did with that type of thing. 

“Ah, it’s fine. So, I just bought this new mezcal, I’ll be right back.” 

She ran to the kitchen and brought shot glasses. 

“So you want me tipsy or what?”

“Just enjoy this with me?” 

Her request was soft and inviting, how could you even think of saying no. She poured more alcohol into the small glasses, “Come here.” she demanded. 

Her command made the pit of your stomach wobble. She took her right arm and looped it with yours, pulling you into her. You didn’t realize it but your heart was beating faster than its resting rate. Her skin was so warm and her hair smelled like honey, her bicep was curling against yours and suddenly you realized your lack of muscle. She lifted the glass to her lips and you followed, not breaking eye contact, her arm tightened, pulling you upwards slightly. She took the shot like a fucking champ. You pull away gasping. 

“So smooth.” She teased. 

“Sure.” You gagged. 

She tucked a strand behind her ear and licked her lips, looking at you fight a fire. She gets a notification on her watch and instantly breaks the tension. You see her eyes light up and a smile creeps up as she reaches for her phone and begins pecking at the screen. You didn’t understand but you felt slightly jealous of whoever was interrupting your night.

“Who’s thattt.” You say in a sing-song voice. 

“What? No one, it’s just a friend.” 

“The fact that you told me it was a friend tells me…” 

“Fine. It’s Nora, remember from freshman bio?” 

“The TA? What? How didn’t I know any of this?” 

“No, because it’s nothing. She’s in grad school, we rekindled recently — I don’t know it was random.” 

“Abby, you are literally blushing.” 

It was true, her skin had turned to the likes of a strawberry. She looked up to you and shoved you in a playful way, slightly embarrassed. You shove her back and she tosses her phone and retaliates. In one swift moment in between the laughter, she pinned you down on the couch cushions. You look up at her, hair flowing into your face, her straddling your legs, and an unwavering smile. Her phone dings with another message which she ignores and it makes you stifle your breathing. 

“You should get that.” You whisper. “And why is that?” She tilts her head playfully. 

She stumped you, no smart rebuttal this time. Another notification slides through and she finally releases you from her grasp. She runs her hand through her hair and reads the messages slightly biting her lip. 

“Well what did she say, come on.” You say leaning over to which she pulls away. 

“No! I, okay. You. Okay. Okay okay.” 

She looked and sounded like a teenager nervous about a pending text. 

“So, context, I told her I was unwinding you know after clinical… So, she said ‘ah, the best. how do you unwind’ right? So I just said, drinking a little, letting my body settle in, you know comfy — being comfy. She said ‘maybe I can help?” Like okay, that means… what I think right. Anyway, I said, how can you help? She said ‘tell me what you have on and I can assess the situation.’” 

You sat taken aback at her brute honesty. 

“So.”

“She’s flirting, isn’t she?” Her eyes sunk at this discovery. 

“Indeed she is.” 

You felt a sense of betrayal, fucking Nora, you thought. 

“Help, what do I say. You know better than me.” She admitted. 

“I am so honored you want my help. Say it again.” You scooch closer. 

She refused. “You know what never-mind.” 

“Abbbbyyy, say it.” 

A minute passes before she finally gives in. “You know better than me.” 

Suddenly you became an expert for Anderson. 

“Let me see your phone.” 

She was hesitant but finally handed it over. You type a possible reply with her looking over your shoulder. 

“What? I’m not wearing a lacey thong.” 

A bit of you wished she was.

“Abby, it doesn’t have to be true.” 

“Yes okay. Red thong. Send it. No-no, just say nothing. I mean that’s more realistic right, oh add that I just got out the shower.” 

She replied instantly. 

Naked, just for me?  

“Why would she say it like that?” Her face turned sour. 

Not for you, just me and my eyes only, you reply. 

“Okay, I like that.” 

When can I see you? 

Abby took her phone back and turned it off while you two shared loud laughs. 

“Fuck, I am not good at this flirting stuff.” She groaned. 

“So, I finally found what you’re not good at, huh?”

She flicked her eyes up at you and away, she was hiding something, a secret. 

“Abigail…” you trail. 

“What.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. 

“Have you ever been with someone before?” 

Deep down you knew the answer. Her ability to not get wrapped up in bullshit led to her hyper-focus on life and not the fun parts. 

“I mean, describe with.” She said going back to the fridge. 

“Had sex with, made out with, also just dated.” 

She brought back two bottles of cider, her lips already pressed to one. You grab yours by the neck patiently awaiting her answer. She just sips her cider.

“Abby,” you say theatrically. “What is it, no one has tickled your fancy or maybe you’re too much of a workaholic to prioritize your needs.” 

Her mouth fell open slightly. “The second one. I’ve gotten there but something always felt off.” 

Hearing Abby talk about sex made you giggle, she couldn’t even mutter the word. Your mind swarmed with all the stuff you could teach her, the positions you could put her in, and the way you would make her feel. 

“Hmmhm.”

“Wait, what the fuck does that mean.” 

“What?” 

“Hmmhm.” She mocks.

“It’s nothing, right now it means I should go, we have Pharma remember. This has been fun,” you stand. “Good night Anderson.” 

You reach out to nip her chin with your cold hand and in that moment when peered at you through those thick lashes you could melt.

“Good night, Dummy.” She smiled goofily.

[sweetestpieces]

Pairing: Giantess!Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader

Tags/Warnings: Giantess, Size Difference, brewing romance, fluff, idk, first time writing fic, completely separate from canon, slow

Length: 1125 words

Summary: Y/N spends her year with the princess, joins her to attend her proposals. (Part 4 of ???)

You can find Part 1 here & Part 2 here & Part 3 here.

“And don’t come back without more wine,” the princess called down to you in the courtyard. She was smiling. She’d been smiling a lot in the past few weeks. So were you.

“I won’t,” you replied and gazed back up at the princess until she disappeared back into the halls of the keep, her laughter carrying through the corridors.

Being personal servant to Rhaenyra, your duties rarely kept you away from her for long. You spent mornings fetching her fruits and eggs with which she could break her fast on. Midday you could be found in the godswood with her as she spoke at length about some of the other suitors her father attempted to bring about. Some days you read to her with her head resting in your lap, the warm sunrays coming through the leaves of the great tree. At night you both retreated to her bedchambers where you would read to her by candlelight and fall asleep together. It was rather risky business as if anyone knew of your sleeping with the princess, even though it was truly only sleeping, rumors might begin to spread.

Whenever she had to serve her duties as princess, you were always by her side. It did not matter if court was being held in the throne room or if she need travel to Winterfell, you always accompanied her. The opportunity to travel was not something you’d expected to be fortunate enough to experience. For so many years all you knew were the boundaries of your family’s small farmland. Occasionally your father had you walk some five miles to the nearest village and back when in need of supplies, but that was all. By the start of your second year with the princess, you’d seen as far south as Sunspear, as far north as the Wall, and everything in between.

On one of those expeditions, this one going southeast to Storm’s End to meet a potential Baratheon suitor, among others, you rode along in the princess’s carriage. The thing was quite large to better accommodate the princess. Eight horses drew the wooden vehicle forward along the road. The spacious interior was lined with seats and cushions of the finest silks from Qarth. The princess lounged on one such seat, her long form stretched out almost to the other end of the carriage. You sat near her, watching her gaze out at the passing trees of the Kingswood. Moments like these, so near the princess in an enclosed space such as this, made her seem even larger than she was. Though recently, you couldn’t help but wonder if the princess had been growing. She seemed taller of late.

“Tumbleton’s not far from here,” the princess said. Your home. She remembered and it gave you a warm feeling inside.

“Indeed,” you said, “Just a little the other way.”

“Do you miss it?” the princess asked after a long pause.

You had to think about that for a moment. When you first moved to King’s Landing, you did feel quite homesick for the farm and your family, as strange as it was. You almost longed for the grueling farm work. As your time with the royal family got on, though, you thought about home less and less. You did miss your family still, your sisters in particular. Perhaps, you thought, you’d pay them a visit soon. “I do. I miss my sisters.”

Rhaenyra looked from the window to you and tucked her legs in closer. “What are they like?”

You recalled your childhood to the princess and told her of how you all got along most of the time, but you still bickered like true siblings should. You all worked together and fought with each other. Rhaenyra looked at you with fascination as you told each story.

Soon enough you could hear the waves crashing in the distance and knew Storm’s End was near. The head of column called for a halt and you and Rhaenyra were helped from the carriage and onto the stone path. The castle lie ahead, grey and dreary even in the sunlight. “This way, Princess.” Riders approached bearing the Baratheon standard and you knew you were in for a long visit.

The next day was the day of the proposals. Lord Baratheon kindly offered his seat in the throne room for Rhaenyra to receive her suitors. Some hours before you and the other lady servants the lord of Storm’s End offered during the royal visit all washed, dressed, and groomed to perfection. Several footstools were needed to reach the princess’s height and help with her jewelry. “It’s rather tight,” Rhaenyra said when one of the maidens tied up the back of her dress.

“My Lady,” one of the other maids said, “It’s the dress, I’m afraid. It doesn’t seem to be properly fit to your shape.”

The air in the room grew silent as they all waited for Rhaenyra’s response. Such a comment to the wrong noblewoman could mean death. Clearly, these women did not know Rhaenyra as you did.

“Bring another, then,” she said, breaking the tension. You helped remove the dress from her, thinking to yourself that this dress fit perfectly a week ago.

Instead, the princess dressed in a red dress with golden leaf patterns across the entire garment, and she went to listen to proposals that she’d already planned to decline.

After the proposals had finished, Rhaenyra returned to her chambers to “contemplate her choices”. In reality, she gossiped with you about the lords that presented. She asked your opinion on them all and which, if any, you would choose.

Upon returning to King’s Landing, Rhaenyra met with her father to discuss the suitors. You lingered near the king’s chambers pretending to be busy as you waited for the princess to finish. It was quiet for nearly an hour before the shouting started.

“I’m heir to the Iron Throne!” the princess yelled.

“You can be heir to the throne elsewhere!”

The door swung open then and the princess, in tears, stormed off down the hall. You discovered her in her chambers still crying, curled up on her bed. You approached with caution and set a hand on her shoulder. “He’s sending me to Dragonstone,” she said. You felt your heart sink. “He says there are rumors. About us.”

You climbed into bed beside her and started to cry too.

Rhaenyra boarded a ship for Dragonstone at the end of the month. You were there to see her off, the princess dressed in a black dress as you exchanged farewells with her. You could see her eyes were already watering before she boarded. You waited, along with the other maidens, watching the ship sail into the Blackwater Rush, and fade into the horizon.

[mojo-bro-tho]

Blood Sugar… Ch.4

~So a lot happened and then a lot didn’t happen. This chapter was originally half the length of this and included an entire second half and now it’s two. Hopefully I’ll have the second half finished sooner now that this is out of the way. Also! If you were hoping for a taste of Emmrich spice then… you’re welcome! Needed something interesting to be here because most of this chapter is character work and I just have to keep myself honest.~

Tags: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed)

Word count: 7.1k

Content warnings for this chapter: References to drug deals, solo spice (idk what does and doesn’t get flagged anymore)

AO3 link here!

Previous!

Atonal Arpeggio

Contrary to popular belief, Rook wasn’t actually the type to be spontaneous. Plans were made and plans were usually kept, it just so happened that she was an incredible improviser and that’s what most people usually focused on. Crows in reality were creatures of schedules. Never ending, sometimes changing at the last minute, schedules. An alarm goes off, send a text, make a call, change of plans, payment failure, send a text, new client, appointment change, alarm goes off, send a text.

So, Rook’s personal life was no different. Since her job was the focal point of it even outside of ‘office hours’. She kept two notebooks, each dated and with meticulous accounts of two separate budgets. There was a flashdrive in her house that had the same information that she updated every week. Eating, sleeping, appearance, workouts, everything was subject to change at the whim of her one true god, the calendar. The wicked mistress she was. But Rook hardly complained, there was some comfort in it actually.

There weren’t many things that separated Rook’s life from ‘Rook’s’ life. There was a whole room in her apartment dedicated to it. A spare room turned into a wardrobe for the lives of around twenty different Rooks. Curated, crafted, and remade over and over again for the pleasure of others. It was rewarding to her. Preferred, even.

Because on days where she didn’t work, when the sun could sear into her skin through a gap in the curtains or the shouts of her downstairs neighbors would stir her from her slumber, the routine had more room to breathe. Rook rolled over in her bed, silk pillowcase smoothing against her cheek. Her gaze rose to the picture frame that sat on her nightstand and attempted to burn a hole through the glass. There was no second alarm to force her out of bed. Nothing to really stop her from dwelling on it.

Two women stood side by side. One was Rook, or whoever she was before Rook. The other was slightly taller but the picture didn’t reflect that. They shared the same skin tone, same eye color, hair color, and had similar noses. But Rook had a slightly wider jaw and the other woman had a bit of a slimmer face. In the photo, Rook was wearing an overly glittery dress with a horrendously off-colored illusion mesh neckline. Her hair was slicked back into a bun so shiny it almost looked like it was made of plastic. With a perfected smile best suited for a competition. But the other woman, she was real. She was generally disheveled, lovingly so. With fussed over strands of hair from running out of a cab to make it in time for Rook’s final Youth showcase makeup uneven because did it in the aforementioned cab ride. She always preferred plain clothes, nothing too ornate, but they looked perfect on her anyways. And she had the most beautiful, crooked smile in the entire world.

Every night, Rook sat the picture upright and made sure it was facing her direction just before drifting off to sleep. Then the next morning, she would stare into the woman’s eyes until her chest hurt or until the next alarm went off, whichever came first. Once that was over she’d flip the picture back down again. Whoever said time heals all wounds was a liar. Varric was a liar. But then again, time probably did heal what it could, Rook just refused to let it go any further than tolerance. Just get up.

Rook wretched the comforter away with a burrowing ache in her heart and changed into her version of ‘comfortable’ and brought up the top of her hair into a claw clip just to keep it out of her eyes. Time to get started with the exhausting process of existing. Food and meds came first, terrible coffee from the terrible coffee pot came next. Afterwards, she cleaned. Every room. Didn’t take long enough. Without much else to do, her thoughts turned to her messenger bag. After emptying it of its plastic wrapper collection, she collected her study materials from inside and set up a station for herself on the floor in front of her coffee table. Read ahead, take notes, write down questions, seemed as good of a way to pass time as any.

A bunch of words on a bunch of pages greeted her. None of which were nearly as interesting or easy to digest without Lichdom there but that would have to do. She wondered why he even bothered using a book for their lesson to begin with, he hadn’t exactly been reading from it. Was he using it as a guideline to keep himself on track? That made sense, and it conjured the idea of him racing through his thoughts when left without a syllabus.

King Verald’s rule was an impressively short lived one. Hundreds of years worth of failing power grabs followed in its wake. Torrid affairs leading to assassination attempts, coups, uprisings formed by commoners. If this could be changed to have a modern setting, Rook thought it might make a semi-successful Antivan Soap Opera. While reading about the several tidal waves of mortal error, she came across a familiar term. The Banner Wars. In the book, it’s discussed as if it were some sort of amalgamous series of events. Which didn’t really make much sense to Rook as history had a nasty habit of being linear. However, she did realize in the midst of that confusion that it wasn’t The Banner’s War. It was Banner Wars, plural.

So, she kept reading. The deeper she went, the more odd it all seemed. The wars seemed to span across the entirety of Nevarra’s disarray and then another couple hundred after the start of the first Pentaghast Dynasty. It was also noted that many historians argue that the Wars continued once again into the second Pentaghast Dynasty, but those weren’t going to be covered in this edition of the book. Rook ended up having to sacrifice a page of her journal to draw up a pseudo timeline for how it’s listed just to try and wrap her mind around how the events were meant to correlate.

But the lied there lied the problem, not all the ‘little wars’ lined up in a literal sense. There would be small gaps of peace, a new fight would spark, which then tore at the old wounds of the last one was over, or ones predating the previous ones. That meant that one war would simply pause to let another or a few take its place before starting back up again. It was a real snake eating its own tail situation, but if the snake tied itself into multiple knots in the process sometimes for a totally unrelated reason.

A knock resounded on her front door, one heavy and low to the ground as if done with a shoe instead of a hand. Rook checked her watch… Creators, it was already past 6pm. Well, there went her plans to go to the studio later. She pushed herself up off the floor, legs and spine aching and in need of a stretch. Which she provided as she made her way towards her door. A look through the peephole done while on her tip-toes made her unlock and pull it open without delay.

“Bels!” Rook exclaimed, finding the woman well endowed with armfuls of oddities. She shifted her body that gave her neighbor permission to enter. Her arms and the bags suspended from them gave a multitude of rattles that made Rook surprised that she didn’t hear her clatter out of her own apartment.

“Hey Rook-” Bellara’s words were cut off by the teetering tip of box in her left arm nearly spilling out of her hold. Rook hurriedly caught the cardboard and commandeered it, then removed the small stack of textbooks from Bellara’s other arm to alleviate more of the burden. “Oh, thank you!” She sighed in relief.

“Don’t mention it.” Rook laughed, leading her neighbor into the living room after double checking the door was locked again.

Back when their friendship first started, this place carried a litany of questions for Bellara, most of which in regards to its more… minimalistic appearance. But now it was familiar, just Rook’s apartment. At least the parts Bellara was allowed in. She took her usual spot on Rook’s modest leather couch before spreading out her projects around her side and the floor in no particular order. It was a lot. Rook was always amazed by the sheer amount of work Bellara was able to take on constantly.

Of course, Rook had theories for why her friend was like this. Bits and pieces of information gathered over their time of knowing each other but never allowed to form a coherent sentence. Again, they were friends, but they’d only known each other since Rook moved to Nevarra where they happened to wind up next door to one another. And Rook figured that no matter how close they were, she couldn’t just randomly go up to her and ask; ��Hey Bellara, do you think you fill your life endlessly with classes, odd jobs, and volunteer work because you need any excuse can get to not confront the reality of your brother’s condition?’ Because that would to any sane person come off as insensitive. Rook never asked in that way.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

“Nothing too crazy this time! I have to send out a couple of emails but that’ll take like five minutes tops!” Bellara replied, retrieving her laptop from one of the fabric hideaways.

“Alright…” Silence. “What are the bags for then?”

“Oh, right. I do have a couple papers I need to finish but they aren’t actually due until next week. There’s those decorations Neve asked me to help out with if I had time for that place she volunteers at. And then in this bag I’ve got some of the parts for that one thing I was telling you about last week and I was wanting to see if I could borrow your tiny screwdriver again but I didn’t want to lose it like last time so I brought the stuff with me, I might need to rearrange the design though so I’ll look over the schematic before that-” Bellara pointed to each project, including the box and books Rook took before that she now cautiously set by the couch. Her expression was somehow a mix of resolute and unadulterated panic. A thought occurred to Rook, leading her to interrupt with a question.

“When was the last time I got your re-up?” The plainness at which she asked drew up a puppy-like expression from the half folded up woman on her couch.

“Like… a month ago. Month and a half.” She admitted sheepishly.

“Bels, you should have told me.” Rook sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

“But I don’t like telling you to do this for me. It’s one thing if it just happens, you know? It’s illegal and it’s bad. I can’t just ask for-”

“It’s Adderall, Bellara. It’s not your fault your insurance won’t cover it and it’s not like I’m buying you an eight ball or something.” Rook argued bluntly. “Let me get some real clothes on. You stay here, write your emails while I get food and meet up with my guy.”

Not wanting to hear the repetitive disagreement they’d have over this, Rook turned fast on her heels to head back to her room. Bellara did not follow, she learned fast that both of Rook’s rooms were off limits to everyone, though it wasn’t as if a whole lot of people over to have that be an issue. Only a handful of people knew her address, and even less had actually been inside long enough to warrant a bit of exploring. In fact, Bellara was the only person that visited frequently. Harding was second and likely would be first if not for Bellara’s advantage of lacking distance.

Behind the closed door of her bedroom, Rook quickly got to work. Something simple. She had to look like this was spontaneous but had effort thrown into it. Even put on a black, lace bra that would be visible through her near transparent white shirt. Just to have it peek her jacket left unzipped. No eyeliner, keep it dewy and natural. As she sat at her vanity, spraying on a layer of her perfume, she leaned into her watch.

“Hey C.T.” A little bell responded. “Text E. Need Ad Revenue. Heading to LA now, meet soon?”

“Would you like to send?”

”Yes.”

The watch chimed again. Rook added a swatch of gloss to her lips before standing to find her permanent marker decorated hightops. By the time they were laced up and Rook was pulling a Lyri-Yum from the bowl by her bed, the watch buzzed against her wrist. Quick response, he must miss her.

“C.T. Read message from E.” She instructed.

“Anything for you, Birdie. Meet near Gallery.” The voice recited, lacking the tone Elek would usually use on her.

She quickly zipped the jacket to keep her clothing choice out of sight from Bellara. Not like she’d make a comment about it, but it was best to not let Bellara’s imagination wander too far or else it would start to eclipse the truth too much. Rook left her room to retrieve her messenger bag off the floor, her study materials still strewn across the coffee table. No point in putting them away now. Her keys were however plucked from the surface and given a small rattle.

“I’ll be back in a bit. Do you mind waiting around for like twenty minutes before we get started?” Rook asked the woman with her legs criss-crossed on the couch, her laptop bouncing slightly on one side thanks to her antsy left side.

“Oh, I don’t mind at all! Wait, are you getting that one pizza place again?” Bellara asked.

“Duh, you know I don’t cheap out on my date nights.” Rook responded, sticking a playful tongue out at her before setting the already unwrapped sucker against it. “Be back in a few! That screw driver is in my kit under the sink, by the way.”

The messenger bag was slung over shoulder as she reached her door. With it closed, she locked it tight. The sounds of Bellara typing silenced and Rook made her way through the exterior path to the stairs. The two women knew each other well enough by this point for Rook to feel comfortable with leaving Bellara alone in her apartment. Partially because Bellara learned quickly to not encroach too much on Rook’s ‘private’ matters. Obviously, there were questions and Rook answered them with as much honesty as she could. Friends don’t lie to each other so Rook always answered the questions she couldn’t be truthful about with a simple ‘next question’. Her neighbor’s top theories for what Rook hid behind closed doors was close enough to the truth to satisfy them both. Aka, Bellara was convinced Rook was involved in the porn industry.

There was another delicate balancing act to this routine. Both women provided something the other was quietly needing, earnest care. Bellara lacked someone to keep tabs on, making sure they were safe and happy, while her brother was temporarily out of reach. Cooking Dalish dishes for the two to share on some weekends after Rook had a tiring day, food that Rook tried not to admit that she missed from times in her youth. And for Rook, it took this sort of form. Paying for medication that Bellara needed from a reputable source that liked her enough to give her a discount and introducing Bellara to the best Antivan food one could find in Nevarra. That and someone willing to keep her company and keep her on task when said tasks piled up too heavily. Rook even helped when she could. Which was all done as a result of missing someone permanently out of reach.

Rook heard the sound of her Beetle’s doors unlocking while she hopped off the final two steps that opened up into the cramped parking lot. There was a comfortable hum of mixed, muffled sounds around the complex and the cool air was soothing against her heavy eyelids. Back inside her apartment, Bellara uploaded a file onto an email meant for her current favorite teacher. Alongside it came the promise of finishing the extra credit assignment by Sunday.

…

Darkness clung to the sky in a thick shroud. The house quieted with Manfred long tucked away into bed some time ago. Emmrich however, was not tired in the slightest. He was dressed as he normally would to sleep, wrapped in a forest green cotton set, and he had laid in bed for nearly an hour without even a fluttering of bliss to lull his eyes closed. An honest attempt had been made but that was all that could be really said about it.

The nerves had been easier to manage during the last two weekdays, when he had actual work to do. But yesterday was a nightmare. Like today, once Manfred was in bed it was as if his mind could find any excuse in the world to stay active. Which inevitably led him to the same spot he was now, in his study with his laptop open and table lamp illuminating some of what was relinquished to Vorgoth. Stacks of typed notes, copies of photographed sites and remains, pages of citations, maps, diagrams. In reality, only some of her materials fit neatly on the desk so the rest rested in one of his desk drawers.

What he was currently forcing his attention on was the crux of Miss Ingellvar’s research. The Hand of Glory. A photograph of the hand stared back at Emmrich, the formerly white silk reflecting slightly from a glare of white. Its aged yellow sheen gave an almost skin-like tone that most others might find squeamish given the nature of the item in question. It was a marvelous artifact… Yet it’s caused such a stir over this last decade.

The glow of his laptop was thankfully dampened by his glasses, eyes following back and forth between emails and the papers beside it. Inevitably, this made him re-read the top most recent ones regarding the last entries for extra credit. Mr. Zimmerman, Miss Ablinger, Miss Lutare, Mr. Barkhausen, Mis Verulus. None of them needed to do the work this early in the year but he usually offered the opportunity for a small assignment every month.

Emmrich wished it was just the tasks that kept his mind occupied. In reality, they were the balms he had chosen to try and to ease the ache sinking past his bones. Threads of white hair fell hung in front of his eyes and he brushed them back with a hand running over his forehead. He wished he could be ignorant to what had left him feeling ill, but he wasn’t naive.

Off ahead and to his right, sat atop the small sofa he kept inside his study was his still opened satchel. Resting inside one of the front slips meant for pens was a plastic wrapped blue circle. Emmrich debated throwing it away once he got in the car to drive back to The Belfry, it wasn’t as though he’d have any use for it. Instead, he slipped it into his bag to escape the inquisitive eyes of his son, who reasonably could not find something he was less interested in. The debate started up again the next morning when he opened the satchel before class.

Again, and again, again. Now it was… nearly midnight, about to factually be Monday and yet the candy still taunted him. The moonlight stretching through the window made it practically glow or radiate in a near hypnotizing hue. Rook had been on his mind multiple times these past few days, and for shamefully less than appropriate reasons. He had been able to hold himself together while in her presence, chalking it up to how his adrenaline seemed to kick up and brush him past it all in the heat of the moment.

But in the quiet, when left to grips of shadowy edges while the coolness of the air clutched at his limbs, memories of their short time together swirled low in his abdomen. Rook was a curious creature, if there ever was one. Every second with her was filled to the brim with some sort of indulgence. And the speed at which those indulgences changed felt like a slap to the face. Perhaps that was the real reason he had managed to keep himself sane throughout the entire session. It was dizzying, disorienting. Elbows dug into polished mahogany, bare arms and hand raised to create a spot for his mouth to rest against. This was foolish or rather he was foolish.

It was impossible to not replay certain things in his head. He ought to know, he had tried persistently. Their first initial meeting in The Lighthouse, the tension it had wound up inside him, he had been able to look past that for the most part. Being alluring, being so… desirable, that was her job. From her perspective it was the entire purpose of their introductions, and that was his fault for not being clear. But everything else after that? None of that was without the pretense for his intentions.

If he allowed himself to linger on the discomfort, he could still sense the staunch presence of her boot against the low bend in his vertebrae. And had it been necessary for her to roll her hips against him while bent over like that? Certainly not. The sheer amount of pluck it took for her to settle into his lap, specifically to run the swell of her behind against his length, was baffling. Had it even been intentional? Muscle memory? The thought of warm skin against his palm while pale purple eyes looked up at him so tenderly, it made his chest feel like it was full of cotton.

It also made him feel terrible. It was an act, she just was trying to get him to play along, to make it look incredibly real. So real that it made him feel like a complete lecher. It was only worse while inside Blackthorn. Her gaze didn’t linger away from him for too long. Glancing up his legs, across his shoulder, at his hands, unaware that he had caught her staring multiple times. Why? Another coincidence, surely.

Actions were quick, made in the heat of the moment. But Rook had been careful with her word choice. The mouth that girl had would send a Chantry Sister into hysterics, and set Emmrich’s veins on fire. Teasing was not in the contract. It was clear she did it purely out of amusement. A dangerous choice if they had been in different circumstances, but that might have been the exact reason she did it. Knowing there was little he could do about it. If that was true, Miss Rook was far more devious than he had originally figured her for.

Most words like that, salacious whisperings, they tasted like salt and musk. Not Rook’s. Hers were so sweet that they were practically inedible. Making his teeth and cock ache. That all too familiar strain flared below, just like yesterday. That infernal candy in his bag matched the only shade he had seen of her tongue-

Maker, preserve him. Emmrich hadn’t felt his body move. The side of his left ring finger was caught between his teeth while his right hand slid up and down his thigh. Palm grazing against the stiffened shaft beneath his clothes. This felt utterly depraved, he had only known the young woman for a handful of hours. Not like that would have stopped him in younger years. Some of his more spontaneous affairs lasted longer in the bed than out of it.

But he had made it a point to resist the last few days. Emmrich was not the sort to feel any sort of real shame over his desires, but this felt like a line he ought to draw. So he tried. Tried to think of something else, anyone else, and for the most part it would work. There were moments where aspects of her slipped in that forced Emmrich to slow down to bring his focus back. It was getting harder and harder to ignore.

Was it really his fault though? Again, her job was to be desirable in the most literal sense. She’s a professional in getting people to want her badly enough that they’d be willing to pay just for a taste. Could anyone really blame him for acting this way in private? But all of this over a candy was ridiculous! The shine of it was still taunting him. He could rip the wrapping off now, force tolerance over the flavor just to try and simulate what that vexing tongue tasted like. He wanted to but his legs planted firmly to the floor.

A string of curses ricocheted throughout his skull as his thumb swirled against a spot of wetness forming against his pants. There was no use stopping it. This was an inevitable outcome. A sharp breath through his nose attempted to cut through the heaviness in his chest while his posture readjusted. His weakened hand slipped and hid itself past his waistband and took hold of his cock, still hidden from view. Emmrich couldn’t bring himself to look, it would be too much to look at it, no matter how awkward of an angle or discomfort this position gave for having little room to move.

He had to get it out of his system now, is what he told himself. Once, just once, to make the fixation stop. Then he could be free. Two dry pumps to test just how desperately his blood was screaming for her. Fingers graze up the underside until they meet the already weeping head.

Rook would probably find this pathetic, or perhaps she’d like it because of that fact. If he was going to do this, Emmrich planned on going all the way. Leaning back in chair, the hand that had been making friends with his teeth sought the comfort of his armrest.

Thin fingers smear the droplets around the heated tip of flesh. A shuddering pull down rubbed once again at the dry remainder of his skin. His grip was wrenched away with a ferocity that may have seemed odd for anyone not acquainted with his proclivities. In the lamp light, the pads of his middle fingers glistened and in between the gaps of them spread apart he could focus on the dot of blue in the distance. Held there like an optical illusion, as though it was being pinned between the joints.

With parted lips, the fingers slipped into his mouth and took in a flavor he was well accustomed to but Emmrich imagined it differently. The more watery consistency helped. A pool of saliva gathered in response, some of it coating his fingers as his tongue glided between the gap where he had imagined the sucker to be. They inched away from his bottom lip and his chin tilted past palm to release the excess spit into his cupped palm. No more dwelling on it, make it end. A brief reprieve from the armrest allowed a thumb to hook back into his waistband. Raising just high enough to return his right hand to the throbbing beneath green obscurity. A fervent grip onto his seat engaged the muscles running up his forearm. There was a quiet hiss to snip the silence, followed by the soaked exchange of skin meeting skin.

The image of the woman in The Lighthouse formed first. Someone who wasn’t quite Rook or at least wasn’t yet. Exceedingly beautiful in a tight black dress and noisy heels. Heels that pressed into his chest and allowed him a chance to glance up her skirt, a chance he hadn’t taken. The feeling of her stockings against his hand forced him to wonder how it may feel if he could have slid himself between her thighs. She may have enjoyed his desperation to have any semblance of touch. Could have leaned into it, told him to rut into his own hand while she simply watched. Not too unlike what was currently happening.

The friction of cloth made the back of his hand burning hot. Emmrich held himself steady with the armrest to attempt and dissuade any bucking from his hips. He gripped himself a little firmer, focusing his attention closer to the head. Up and down, small movements that drew up his eagerness and increased that static sensations in his brain with a slight twist of his wrist to accent each stroke. He could have given himself away to her in that moment, he should have, what a waste of an opportunity. Just to feel something. And maybe she would have rewarded him with a dip into her nylons.

But suddenly, there was Blackthorn. A more clear rendition of the woman, more understood and more vibrant. All that teasing, all those bold words. What was it she told him? ‘I’m good at sucking, I’d rather not spit, I can stay quiet for you’? The memory elicited a needy groan from Emmrich’s chest. Yes, all that was probably true. He imagined she had a lot of practice, a well versed tongue so to speak. Not a lot of people could truly appreciate the allure of an experienced woman. He wondered if she was as popular as the organizer made her seem, she may not even have a gag reflex.

Another squeeze, a longer drag as he imagined pushing her head down until she took every inch of him. He’d hold her there with fingers laced in her hair and keep her still until she really started to feel the weight of him like a nervous lump in her throat she couldn’t swallow. The loudest noise would be her earrings twinkling against one another as he took an agonizingly slow pace with using her mouth.

If he could hold himself back, that is. Emmrich’s movements became less hesitant and far more covetous. A line of wetness ran down the side of his thigh. Thumping sounds of slickened skin slightly muffled under cloth, and his hips shifted to try and meet the demands of his desire. The room smelled too much like him. Books, frankincense, aftershave, and vetiver. It only spurred him on to speed up, as he’d rather prefer to sink his senses into her. So sugary and intoxicating.

If he hadn’t already been so worked up, the next thought would have made him stop. Almost nothing would at this point. He saw her after the teasing. That fleeting look on the stone stairs, her expression whenever she chanced a glance at him while listening to him teach her, all her reassurances. Relaxed, content, and sweet. Emmrich felt it brand into every neural pathway that controlled his pleasure. A pulse rang through him and a heavy constriction in his testicles forced his neck to crane to the side. A hand slammed against his mouth just before his climax ruptured throughout his nerves.

An undeniable wail tried to escape from him. Shoulders shuddering and legs tensing far more violently than any release he’d had in some time. For a few seconds he continued to stroke himself, draining every drop he’d have to give. Like he’d have any real use for his own spill. All of which either soaked into the front of his pants or dripped down until it did the same on the underside.

It had been a crescendo, it always was. A bright flash of heat and pressure and ear ringing ecstasy. But it doesn’t last long with only himself there to meet it. The cool air needled into his feverish skin, the stickiness of his right hand all too obvious. And the edges of Rook’s visage were still there with a simple smile. His eyelids pryed themselves open to try and run from what he saw there. The bony clutches of regret.

Why had that been what did it? There was some level of excuse he could give for the other two workings of his imagination. They were rooted in a farce that she played into. But that hadn’t been what drove him into his release. Emmrich felt dirty and perverse for it. His throat clenched with a tightening pain as reality settled back into his muscles.

That was a mistake. A tremendously exciting and delicious climax in the moment but very much a mistake all the same. How had he let himself get this far? Emmrich felt as though he only had himself to blame. No matter the taunting, it was his own actions that he’d have to control. He had to. This wasn’t a matter he could complicate any further.

The man took a deep breath through the nose in an attempt to calm himself. In for four counts and out again for another four. He had to try and be more careful. Be professional. He could do that. If not for Rook’s dignity in regards to an act she’d never be aware of, then at least for self preservation. The toiling guilt and disgust swelled like an infected organ secretly lodged between his small and large intestines.

The strands of hair fell in front of his eyes some time ago, and this time he had no energy to brush them back. He’d need another shower anyways. And a change of clothes.

He couldn’t do this again, and the knowledge that he’d be seeing her again in less than twenty-four hours gnawed at him as he struggled to get his footing.

…

Monday, confusing. Lichdom wasn’t acting right. If she even had jurisdiction to say what was ‘normal’ for him. There had been some level of… excitement over the next session once the weekend passed. Aside from her studying before her project date with Bellara, she hadn’t gotten the chance to do much more work on A Deconstruction of Present. Which was disappointing because she was just starting to get into it but her weekend had been just as busy as she’d expected.

A double booking on Saturday but only one paid for lip service. Damas had called in a favor though so she was up late. Then on Sunday she had a longer session with a new client that Viago had labeled as Sten. Rook knew just enough random Qunlat to recognize it as some sort of military rank, which was very fitting from what she had seen of him. He told her he was a politician from Par Vollen and that more than cleared up how forthright he had decided to be with his information.

The Crows didn’t have any agencies up there but that was mostly because there wasn’t a need for it. Rook’s line of work wasn’t seen with the same sort of taboo it was in Thedas. But according to Sten, they had been recommended to him by an ‘old friend’ and from there it was the organizer who recommended Rook based on ‘certain factors’. Of course, Rook was not privy to that exact information as it wasn’t necessary to her task. A past client was likely Sten’s old friend, or perhaps someone with clipped wings. In any case, him being called Sten was apt. He was a no nonsense type, no complex requests or frills. She thought this would have been a good assignment for one of the newer people since he required so little. That would be the case if not for the damn near merciless stamina he had. Usually when clients paid for longer sessions, there was some sort of drawn out foreplay or talking involved. Not Sten though. Ten minutes to explain everything, another five to get undressed, and the next three hours and forty-five minutes was manual labor.

Needless to say, the warmth Lichdom provided was a welcomed levity that she had been hoping for. So she was grinning to herself until he approached her and then… next to nothing. Lackluster wasn’t quite the right word for it, but Rook equated him to a snuffed candle. She tried to light him up again and got little more than a spark. The most reaction she had gotten out of him the whole session was when she showed him her notes from Thursday and the receipt placement in the book that she used as a marker. His eyes went as wide as saucers, mouth agape. That gave Rook a chuckle and for whatever reason that caused Emmrich to straighten his spine.

First he asked her why she did it, because she felt like doing it. He said she didn’t have to, she knew that but she did it anyway. Funny how that works, isn’t it? His brows knitted together. Then he asked if homework costs extra. That was a spark. No, it wouldn’t cost extra so long as he didn’t ask or expect her to do it. Emmrich regarded her with something unexpected, apprehension. Nothing cold or unpleasant necessarily. He flashed her a polite smile, light as air and warm. But there was a crispness there, cutting in his posture. Like the cooling graze of the autumnal breeze outside of Blackthorn. And it remained that way for the rest of the session.

Wednesday, suspicious. No spark, nothing at all. He was certainly more relaxed than he had been previously but that only seemed to make him more curt in his demeanor. So, Rook tested a few things. On the way inside the library, she stood a little closer to him and let her arm whisper against his knuckles. Emmrich was quick to move his hand away and needlessly checked the time. At the table, she let her messenger bag tip slightly over the edge of the table so a few things would spill out. Just a journal, a few Lyri-Yums, a scrunchy, and a forgotten mechanical pencil. Ever the gentleman, Emmrich was on one knee without a thought and helped her gather the items. She thanked him and apologized for her clumsiness but still got little reaction from her ‘accidentally’ bumping into him a few times. However, he was oddly hesitant to pick up her suckers. A last stitch effort came in the form of leaning over the table to briefly try and read some of the last bits of their first book. The perfect opportunity to peek just a little bit down her shirt and still nothing! They just… finished and moved on to start A City of The Dead.

Now, it was Friday. And Rook was starting to get a little annoyed. Or maybe offended was a better way to describe it? Either way, she had been so up in arms over it that she actually finished the book they had just started in between work. Even had the notes and questions ready to go! That was the only thing to get him back on Monday but she suspected that that had more to do with surprise than anything else. Creators, she’d had more luck with getting Heiner to play and that was less than thrilling. Ah yes, the clearly single nerdy type sees an ‘artsy’ alternative girl who shows even a glimmer of interest in him and he’s borderline twirling his hair over it. That made sense, that was expected and she figured out basically all his tells by the time she returned A Deconstruction of Present.

In the back of her mind she was well aware of the fact that she was being less than fair. Whatever that waltz had been, it was being locked up tight and Rook was clearly being denied entry. Couldn’t even hear the music if she pressed her ear against the door. Perhaps she had set her expectations too high or somehow misjudged him. Rook was usually good at pinning people down but Lichdom was whisked away and she was unable to learn his steps. He had made her excited. Emmrich was fun. But Rook knew if she told any of the other Crows about this issue she was having, they’d think she’d taken too many hits to the face.

‘What was so wrong with having an easy client?’ ‘Sounds like a nice break to me.’ ‘At least you didn’t have my last client, you wouldn’t believe what he wanted to put in me!’ Yeah, sure, they all had a point but still. One of the many reasons was so popular at the agency had to do with her enthusiasm towards the clientele. Rook was a very specific type of voracious learner. After their first proper session in Blackthorn, she had been itching to get back in his domain. The material was interesting enough but Lichdom? He was the real study. And to say she was starting to feel let down was an understatement.

4:18pm on a Friday afternoon, Rook sat on the stone steps again. A few possibilities had come to mind as to what could have caused Emmrich to feel the need to build a wall between them. All of those possibilities led her to the same choice of alleviation. Sincerity. She could do that. No games, no teasing. She would take this session seriously and see where it got her.

Rook’s mouth felt empty without her candy there to reassure her. The bitter taste of the second cup of bad coffee still hanging at the back of her throat. Afternoon sunlight weighed on her from over her closed eyes, head resting on raised knees as she took in the sound pouring in from her headphones. The pressure on her right temple leaned against her kneecap kept her awake

Time was nearing, she’d stop once this song was over. A 3/4 composition dominated by a full line of violins and cellos, pulsed with snares, and enunciated by brass. Waltz wasn’t exactly her speciality but this one could be livelier with the right partner. It flushed with an intensity that begged for a firm hand between the shoulder blades and an elongated neck. The fingers hidden under the curve of her thigh attempted to map the pattern she’d have come up with while the other delicately tapped at the step to keep the time.

Her cheek was warmed by the sunlight. Just enough to give her some peace between the tiredness crawling under her eyes and the melancholy in her legs. The music was loud, just the way she liked it. So it wasn’t sound that made her head perk up but rather the sudden lack of red light penetrating her left eyelid. A sudden darkness that loomed over her as an unknown just before her gaze could process it.

[neverheroes]

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Thank you so much to everyone who has interacted with this so far, it means so much to me.

I feel like I’ve come a really long way in a week!

Or course Raph and Leo find a reason to play fight with each-other, how else do you be brothers, they don’t even know.

So my fourth ever comic page took longer than the other three combined probably. I tried using that dark black comic inking quality, I like it because it stops it from looking like the Saturday morning cartoons comics? I know big bright images get the most attention here but I really like gritty.

I’m so scared of the learning curve that is going to be creating environments, the growth is making me anxious butI made an first attempt at the lair! Colouring just the main foreground is already a huge task idk how I’ll deal with the whole thing. I’m actually wondering if I should just leave colouring out? It’s hours of time. Hm.

I write too much dialogue, but I’m much better at writing paragraphs than doing this. New medium new writing style and that’s a whole weird learning thing too.

What’s this: I’m teaching myself to draw and growing the style while letting the story write itself, because I got really sick this week and it’s basically a fever dream. Weeee

Thank you so so much for reading!

Leave comments ask questions and if you know me in real life no you don’t.

[nicole-2099]

yeonjun. orange/ginger hair. fratboy. takes you into the bathroom. do what you must 🙏🏽🙏🏽

- ur sims 4 wife <33.

Yes, I can definitely attempt this.

“Didn’t expect seeing you here”

C.YJ. Yeonjun x Reader

(fratboy yeonjun x Reader)

{Dom yeonjun x sub Reader}

(smut,praising,pussy eating 🥣,unprotected s3x,pet names,dirty talk)

Note: I didn’t read over it cuz I’m lazy!

‼️MDI LEAVE‼️

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You woke up to the sound of the garage truck pulling up to your house, you rub your eyes sleepily as you crawl out of bed stretching as you walk over to the bathroom to check yourself out in the mirror and do your morning routine, after that you walk over to the pantry as pull out a box of Reese’s puffs from the back, you get a bowl and a spoon all that’s left in milk to you go to your fridge to see if you have any, sadly you didn’t and with a frown you set the box of Reese’s puffs down along with the bowl and the spoon.

You sigh in disappointment as you Flop onto the couch scrolling through instagram when you suddenly get a text from Taehyun.

Terry: hey you going to yeonjuns party tonight?

You: thb no I don’t wanna run into any opps.

Terry: Trust me you wont even notice them your gonna be having wayyy to much fun to even care!!

You: idk terry..

Terry: please!! You’ll have fun, trust!!

You: okay fine, just know if I see a opp I’m leaving.

Terry: Yippie! Just don’t wear anything lame and embarrass me and you in front of all those people.

You: I wont.

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You smile to yourself as you push yourself off the couch walking over to your dresser to pick out and outfit, after your done picking out your outfit you go to your bathroom to put on your makeup, by the time you finished doing your makeup it was already dark out and you had at least 5 text from terry asking you where you are, you replied with a quick ‘Js abt to leave cya!’ Obviously you weren’t just about to leave you didn’t even put your outfit on.

You let your hair down brushing it as you hurriedly put on your outfit, it was simple but cute, just a white tube top with a cute frilly pink skirt, you hurry out of the house and next thing you know you walking down the dark streets in heels wishing you got an Uber.

After walking for what felt like ages you hear a car pull up next to you, you turn around slightly alarmed but your fear quickly fades when you see that’s it’s just Terry. “Your snap map was on, just get in we’re late!!” Terry says as he pushes the passenger side door open for you, you smile as get in sitting down your legs shivering, it was freezing cold out but luckily for you the car was warm with the heater cranked up to max.

After a bit of driving the both of you finally made it, the house was huge, with fairy lights hanging from tall beams along with vines and flowers. Once terry parked you finally got out of the car the cold was bearable now. Finally Terry gets out of the car after looking for his phone that he some how lost on the drive here. The both of you walk inside the smell of weed and alcohol in the air, everyone was on something and it’s not that shocking since yeonjun did host it. You and Terry end up separating from each other. You look around with a mixture of disgust and discomfort as you see a bunch of groupies just fuckin out in the open no shame, you think to yourself wondering why the fuck you came here and why you haven’t left yet. Part of you wants to stay and get high and drunk but the other part of you is telling you to leave before you die from the strong smell of weed.

You end up making your way back to Terry but quickly beeline into a room after seeing him talking to a girl not wanting to bother the both of them, you look around the dimly lit room as you sat down on the bed with a sigh running your fingers through your hair.

“Oh I didn’t expect to see you here?”

You look up shocked when you see yeonjun standing in front of you with a cart in his hand the smell of weed punching you in the face. “Hello to you too yeonjun, did you want something?” You say rolling your eyes, yeonjun eyes you up and down sitting down next to you in the bed. “Actually no I don’t want anything because this is my room.” He says with a smirk on his face, you look at him slightly embarrassed as you shake you head. “Sorry- I just couldn’t handle seeing groupies out there..” you said with a disgusted expression. Yeonjun stifles a laugh as he lays down on the bed with a long sigh. “Yeahh they dint have any shame, but yolo I guess.” He says with a grunt as he sits back up his eyes scanning over your body. “Cute skirt, but don’t you think it’s too short.?” He asks with a smirk on his face as his eyes run over your legs, you snap your fingers at him with a frown. “Eyes up here freak! And no I don’t think it’s too short.” You say answering him with sass. Yeonjun looks up at you with a grin brushing a strand of your hair out of your face. “Pretty and sassy, cute..”.

You look at him eyes scanning his with confusion, “what??? Dude how high are you??” Yeonjun rolls his eyes saying “I’m not high enough”

you roll your eyes as you look down at the ground in boredom, “what was your plan with throwing this huge party anyways..?” You ask as you look up you see yeonjuns eyes already on you. “Well, I was hoping I could see you..” Yeonjun says with a smirk as he inches closer to you, but you inch away with a serious look you ask again. “Seriously why.?” Yeonjun rolls his eyes and takes a hit of the cart he’s been holding onto, he sighs the smoke leaving his lungs as he shrugs “no reason.” You stare at him blankly as you get up getting ready to leave, your on the door knob before you hear. “Hey wait a second princess!” You turn around to see yeonjun standing in front of you his eyes glazed and red from the weed. “What.? And don’t call me that.” You say your hand still on the door knob. Yeonjuns hand gently wraps around you waist pulling you against him. “Don’t leave now..” Yeonjun pouts as he pulls you away from the door, picking you up and making his way to the bathroom, locking the both of you in. “What the fu-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence before you felt his lips crash against yours.

You stare at him wide eyed as his body presses against your, but for some reason you didn’t pull away, maybe it was the smell of weed or something but you didn’t even try to stop him. Yeonjuns lips finally pull away from yours and he looks at you his face flushed but he also looks at you confused. “You didn’t pull away??” He asks tilting his head to the side like a dog trying to understand what its owner is saying. “No I didn’t- I honestly don’t know why either..” you say as you look up at him. “Well you wanna keep going..?” He asks with a hint of amusement in his voice, you shrug and lean into him again your hips grinding against his slightly as your lips brush against his, he smiles against your lips and picks you up setting you on the bathroom sink his finger digging into your waist.

You could taste the weed and alcohol on his lips as his hands running down in between your thighs pushing them apart, pulling away from your lower himself just a bit as if he’s warning you before he goes down on you. You look down at him eyes hooded with a small nod, and before you knew it he was lapping at your pussy like his life depends on it, your body arching up as you try to catch your breath, as your fingers pull on his hair pushing him further in between your legs.

You whine legs kicking a bit your body twisting with need as yeonjuns grip on your thighs tighten as he continues eating you out, you squirm around trying to keep your voice down as you feel him whisper against your clit. “You taste so sweet pretty girl..”

You whine at the nickname looking down at him as he goes back to going down on you causing you to let out soft desperate moans. Yeonjun smiles against your pussy loving the way you sound, his hand moving away from your thigh, onto your clit his thumb rubbing circles on your clit pushing you over the edge as you came undone after just a few seconds, your body shaking with need and desire as yeonjun leaves sweet soft kisses on your puffy pussy.

“You did so well, good girl..” he says with a calm tone as he crashes his lips with yours making you taste yourself on his lips as you lean into the kiss eagerly. He pulls away from your lips with a smile as he pays your head playfully, “eager too, cute..” he says licking his lips as he kisses you again pulling you by the waist so your hips are pressed against his hips. You could feel his hard on grind against your inner thigh making you squirm, he smiles against your lips and pulls away his eyes glossy, “want me to fuck you princess..?” He’d ask playfully already knowing what you’re going to say.

You nod desperately as you watch his fingers pick at the hem of his jeans pull them and his boxers down to his knees, he used his thumb rubbing the tip of his dick the pre-cum smearing around on his fingers, as he lines it up at your entrance, slowly pushing in using his free hand to keep you steady in place, he waited a few minutes making sure you’ve adjusted to his size before slowly pushing inside you making you squirm and whine with need as you cover your mouth trying to hold back a moan, yeonjun smirks leaning into you more biting your neck as he thrusts into you grunting. “Thats it..good girl, good girl..” he praises in a whisper brushing all your hair back out of the way, his eyes locking onto you lovingly his free hand squeezing your thigh his fingers digging into your skin.

Yeonjun groaned his grip on your body tightening, you were close clenching around him feeling him twitching inside you. “Fuckk..atta girl..” he said with a heavy sigh feeling you clench around him even more. You wiggled around desperately before finally reaching your high coming undone. Yeonjun smiled watching you cum around him still thrusting into you chasing his own release, “Fucking perfect..such a pretty little pussy..”. Yeonjun grunts thrusting into you a few more times before finally cumming inside you filling you up your body jolts at the sudden feeling squirming and whining not being able to sit still for some reason, yeonjun grunts pulling out of you watching the mess inside you spill out, he then presses his lips against yours, his hands grabbing onto your waist steadying you he pulls away with loving smile on his face as he hides his face in the crook of your neck affectionately with a muffled voice saying “Mm, I hope you know this wasn’t a one time thing, princess.”

You nod with a smile pulling him in feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “God you smell like weed I might pass out..” you say annoyed, Yeonjun pulls away from the embrace as looks at you playfully biting his lip, “don’t pass out now, one more round princess.” You roll your eyes but pull him back into a hug holding him close, until you heard you phone going off, you pulled away from the hug and jumped off the bathroom sink running to you phone to see at least 69 (😏) notifications from Terry asking you where you are.

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FINALLY DONE LESSS GOO!!! 🙏‼️

If u got any requests go ahead n ask away!!

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hello I really like your works and idk if you have done something like this before but could you do some Hero comforting Villian after they lost their memory?

Tears welled out the hero’s face as they put their arms up. A sad attempt at keeping themselves alive.

“Please,” they whispered. “If you must. Then make it quick.”

Ever since the villain had started attacking them, there had been a flame in their eyes. It was so violent, so unsettling, it made the hero shiver in fear, and right now, this blaze developed into a blazing fire.

“Shut up,” the villain hissed. They could do it. They could end the hero’s life quickly right here, right now — straddling their hips, weapon in hand. A human that had turned into a monster.

“I love you,” the hero said.

A crush that had turned into a nightmare.

“Stop—” the villain punched them “saying—” and again “—that.” and for the final time.

The hero knew what pain was, knew it better than anyone else in the city. The hero knew what loss was. And yet, what exactly was this?

They felt the fear and humiliation drowning them in a thick liquid of blood and innards as desperation and grief mixed together a poisonous pill for them to swallow. They let out a wet cough.

Face pulsing, body covered in blood — they were ready to give up. What did it matter? What did it matter if the only person worth living a life with had turned against them? Had lost all their memories and wanted to kill them now?

“I love you,” the hero repeated, wheezing. Because that was all there was left. Despite being nearly dead, they loved the villain.

The fight had been anything but short and the villain had always been the stronger one out of the both of them. Long story short. The hero was bleeding out quickly.

“I don’t even know who you are,” the villain spat. “But I know I have to kill you.”

They’d met when the hero had saved them unintentionally during a mission. The villain had been imprisoned and the hero had just decided to break that door open. Lots of bickering. But also the first time the hero had developed a crush on someone.

“You’re hesitant.”

“I am not.” The villain grabbed a knife, pushing it into the hero’s skin, provoking to cut their aorta.

“Your hand is shaking. Your hands always shake when you panic,” the hero said. They closed their eyes and imagined what it would feel like if the love of their life would cut their throat.

“What?”

“You like canned soup,” the hero said. Another tear streamed down their face. Exhaustion. “You wake up at 4:30 each morning. You hate running. You hate the news. You hate television and you hate hotdogs.”

The villain stared at them, restraining themselves. Deft hands were holding their weapons. But their eyes showed a penchant that was familiar to the hero.

“You love snakes. You like fog. You love tea and you love poems,” the hero whispered. “And I love you. Truly. Dearly. Completely.”

They laughed tiredly. “I’ve never told you before but…it’s true.”

“You’re a target I need to kill,” the villain said. “You’re nothing more to me.”

And the hero laughed again. They reached out a hand and their fingertips brushed the villain’s cheek, smeared a bit of blood over it.

“Oh, my silly villain,” they said. “Who did this to you?”

Their thumb brushed over the villain’s skin lovingly, slowly.

“Let me help you. Please.” The villain took their time, staring at the hero with an expression that indicated yearning. Contrary to the hero’s expectations, they didn’t push away their hand. They let it stay.

They closed their eyes, pained.

“Like I said, I don’t know who you are,” they said. Eventually they stood up, eyes going over the hero’s wounds.

They threw a burner phone to their feet, looking at the hero.

“Call yourself an ambulance.”

And with that, they vanished.