#and he was like i don’t know either! let me pull it up on pathways (corporates guide for everything)
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misswynters · 7 months ago
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Drunken
featuring. ekko x reader
happy turkey holidays 🦃
note. when reading this imagine the boom sound effect everything ekko says something unhinged. (lol)
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Lights from flickering neon signs bathed the streets in hues of green and purple, casting eerie shadows along the broken walls and uneven pathways. Ekko sat perched on a ledge high above the chaos, his feet dangling lazily as if he didn’t care if he slipped and fell. He often came here to think, to escape. Tonight, though, his solitude was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps. It was yours.
“Hey,” you greeted, your voice softer than usual but edged with something he couldn’t place. You were wrapped in the jacket he’d given you, its fabric worn but warm against the chill of Zaun’s smog-filled night.
Ekko glanced over his shoulder, his face unreadable in the half-light. “What do you want?” His tone wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t welcoming either.
You frowned, hesitating for a moment before stepping closer. “I just… I wanted to see you. You’ve been distant lately.”
“Yeah? Maybe I had a reason.” He swung his legs, his sneakers catching the dim light as he stared out at the cityscape.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped, your patience fraying at the edges. “I’m just trying to figure out what’s wrong, Ekko. You’ve been shutting me out—”
“Maybe you’re the problem,” he interrupted sharply, turning to face you now. His eyes were hard, a rare thing for someone who usually carried so much warmth. “You don’t get it, do you? You’re always here, always around, like… like you think I owe you something.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut. You stepped back, your breath hitching. “I’m clingy? That’s what you think of me?”
Ekko groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You confuse me, alright? You’re all over the place, acting like you care but then pulling back. I can’t—I don’t know what you want from me, and I don’t have the time to figure it out.”
Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Instead, you shrugged off the jacket he’d given you and threw it at his back. “Fine. You don’t have to figure it out. Here’s your damn jacket.” Your voice cracked, betraying the pain you tried to hide, and you turned on your heel, storming off without another word.
Ekko called after you, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. His words had cut too deep, and you needed to get away.
The Last Drop was dimly lit, its familiar haze of smoke and alcohol making it feel both comforting and suffocating. You slumped onto a barstool, not caring about the stares you earned as you ordered the strongest drink they had. The bartender raised an eyebrow but obliged, sliding a glass toward you. The liquid burned as it went down, and that was exactly what you wanted.
By the third drink, the room felt like it was spinning, but you didn’t care. You leaned heavily on the counter, muttering to yourself about Ekko’s audacity. “Clingy? Really? I’m just supposed to—” Your drunken rant was cut short by a familiar voice.
“Y/N.” You turned, and there he was, standing near the doorway with your jacket in hand. He looked out of place here, his usual confidence tempered by something softer. Regret, maybe.
“What do you want?” you slurred, glaring at him as he approached.
Ekko didn’t answer right away. Instead, he draped the jacket over your shoulders, only for you to shrug it off. It fell to the floor, and you stared at it for a moment before looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes.
“You dropped this,” he said simply, picking it up again before sitting on the stool beside you.
“I didn’t drop it. I threw it at you. Big difference.” Your words were biting, but your voice wavered.
Ekko sighed, ordering a light drink and stirring the ice in the glass as he spoke. “I came to apologize, alright? I shouldn’t have said what I did back there.”
You scoffed, turning back to your drink. “Save it, Ekko. You said how you really felt. No need to sugarcoat it now.”
“You don’t get it,” he said, his tone growing more earnest. “I’ve been dealing with a lot—stress, responsibility, everything piling up. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. That was wrong.”
You didn’t respond, instead taking another sip of your drink. He waited, his patience steady even as you cut him off with sharp, drunken remarks every time he tried to explain himself. Still, he didn’t leave.
Finally, you turned to him, standing unsteadily and placing yourself between his legs. Your finger jabbed at his chest, your faces inches apart. “You think… you think you can just apologize and fix everything?” you asked, your voice slurred but your expression serious.
Ekko’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his hands instinctively resting on your arms to steady you. “I’m trying, I know I messed up.”
“You’re the one that’s confusing,” you muttered, your words barely coherent now. “One minute you’re pushing me away, the next you’re… you’re here, looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” he asked, his voice low.
“Like you care,” you whispered, your hand coming up to trace the edge of his jaw. Your finger brushed his scarf, twisting it absently as you spoke. “Do you care, Ekko?”
He caught your wrist gently before your fingers could brush his lips. “Stop,” he said softly, his tone a mix of firmness and concern. “You’re drunk.”
You blinked up at him, your eyes glassy. “So? I still mean it.”
He didn’t respond right away, instead standing and slipping an arm around your waist to keep you upright. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
You stumbled against him, your legs uncooperative. “You know…” you slurred, leaning heavily into his chest, “your arms are really nice. Strong. Muscular. You should carry me.”
Ekko raised an eyebrow, but before he could protest, you jumped into his arms with surprising enthusiasm. He caught you effortlessly, sighing as he adjusted his grip. “The drunken firefly,” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“Drunk but still lovable,” you corrected, resting your head against his shoulder as he carried you out of the bar. The night air hit your face, cool and refreshing after the stifling atmosphere inside.
Ekko’s steps were steady as he walked, his grip on you firm but gentle. “We’ll talk when you’re sober,” he said, his voice low and calm.
“Fine,” you mumbled, already half-asleep in his arms. “But you better not run away again.”
“I won’t,” he promised, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city. And for the first time that night, you believed him. Let’s just hope next time he will be more open and honest about how he is feeling with you.
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banner. @anitalenia
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sammhisphere · 28 days ago
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In the Quiet, You Stay- Lee Know 이 리노
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Summary: You and Lee Know have been best friends for years, sharing secrets, dreams, and quiet moments in between your busy lives. But when the line between friendship and something more starts to blur, you find yourselves exploring new feelings neither of you expected. As you navigate this delicate shift, your connection deepens with shy touches, stolen glances, and late-night conversations that lead to unforgettable, intimate moments. This is a story of friendship evolving into love, where vulnerability and desire intertwine, and where the comfort of a best friend becomes the passion of a lover.
Word Count: ~9.35k
Warnings: 18+ (explicit content and mature themes). Contains intimate scenes and sensual moments, slow-burn romance with gradual escalation. Emotional vulnerability and tender moments, degradation.
~
You didn’t expect a knock at your door at 11:47 p.m.
Especially not from Lee Minho, wearing a hoodie pulled low over his head and a tote bag slung over one shoulder like he didn’t just come from performing in front of thousands of screaming fans.
You blinked. “You said you were flying in tomorrow.” “I lied,” he said with a tired smile. “Let me in. It’s cold.” You stepped aside without another word, watching as he kicked off his shoes with a practiced flick and beelined straight for your couch, flopping down like he owned the place.
Same Minho.
“You good?” you asked, walking in with a glass of water. “I’m fried,” he muttered, arm slung over his eyes. “Three straight weeks of filming, concerts, rehearsals. Chan’s threatening to confiscate my phone. Hyunjin told me I look like a broom.” You snorted. “You do look a little like one.” He cracked an eye open and narrowed it at you. “Like you don’t?”
You sank onto the armchair across from him, curling your legs beneath you. “Why’re you here?” Minho sat up slowly. “Just wanted to see you. It’s been a while.” It had. Texts and FaceTime weren’t the same as this, sitting in your tiny living room with laundry on the chair and your half-open bio textbook still on the floor. You weren’t part of his world anymore, not since he moved to Seoul and became a name people screamed at in airports. But somehow, you weren’t not part of it either; you lived 30 minutes from Seoul and met occasionally. 
You studied him as he leaned back again, face drawn but content. “You okay?” you asked quietly. He didn’t answer at first. Then “Sometimes I get so caught up in it all, I forget this exists.” You tilted your head. “This,” he repeated, gesturing vaguely. “You. Home. A place I don’t have to prove anything.” You bit your lip, feeling your chest ache a little. “You don’t have to prove anything anywhere.” He looked at you then, really looked. “You’d say that even if I was jobless and dancing in a convenience store parking lot.”
You shrugged. “I’d make you wear a sandwich board for extra tips.” He laughed, for real this time. “God, I missed you.” You smiled softly. “Missed you too, Min.” The silence settled comfortably again. You watched as he slowly blinked, eyes heavy, limbs looser now. He hadn’t even taken his coat off. Just dropped into your space like no time had passed.
“I have midterms soon,” you said after a minute. “Haven’t slept properly in days.” He peeked up. “Want me to quiz you?” You snorted. “You know nothing about cell signaling pathways.” “I’ll just say ‘wrong’ with a dramatic gasp every few minutes. Like a real professor.” “Don’t tempt me,” you muttered, but your lips twitched.
He was staying over, he always did when he visited. No hotels. Just the spare blanket and the couch he’d claimed as his years ago. You cleaned up your papers and let him change into the extra sweats he kept in your closet, still folded from last time. He curled up like a cat, back facing the room, quiet. You turned off the lights. And just before slipping into your own room, you heard him whisper, almost too soft:
“Thanks for not changing.” Your heart squeezed. You didn’t reply. But he knew.
~
The next morning is cold. Not winter-cold, but the kind that makes you wrap your hoodie tighter and shuffle to the kitchen in fuzzy socks. Your place smells like old textbooks and dust and something faintly citrus from the dish soap. It smells like home.
Minho’s still curled up on the couch when you walk in, a blanket tugged over his shoulder, hair messy and sticking up at odd angles. His phone rests face down on the coffee table, untouched. You make tea instead of coffee. He never liked coffee first thing. As you’re pouring hot water into a chipped mug, you hear him stir.
“… Is it Thursday?” he mumbles, voice rough from sleep. You glance back. “It’s Saturday.” “Oh.” A pause. “Even better.” He sits up slowly, stretching his arms above his head. “Why’s your place always freezing?” “Because I’m poor,” you deadpan. “Do you want the sad blanket or the even sadder blanket?” He gestures toward the tea in your hand. “I want that.”
You hand him the mug wordlessly. He wraps both hands around it, the way he always does, like it’s a ritual. For a long moment, you sit in silence. No phones. No cameras. Just the sound of the water heater and a slight hum from the fridge. Then “How’s school?”
You blink. “Terrible. Want to help me drop out?” He snorts. “If you drop out, you’re moving in with me and paying rent with ramen packets.” “Fine,” you mutter. “I’ll finish my degree.” You both sip in silence again. It’s not awkward. It’s never been awkward.
He looks tired still, but softer, more at ease. You glance over. “How’s… everything? Really?” He sighs. “Loud. Busy. Too many voices telling me who I am.” That sits between you both like a stone. Then he adds, quieter, “Sometimes I forget what it feels like to be just Minho.” You say nothing for a beat. Then, “You’re just Minho here.”
He looks at you. “No fans. No expectations. Just the kid who once tripped over my backpack and blamed gravity.” A tiny grin cracks across his lips. “It was a faulty zipper.” “It was physics.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “God, you’re still such a nerd.” You grin. “And you’re still a menace.” Minho sets his mug down and leans back against the couch, eyes fluttering closed again.
“Do you think we’ll still be like this when we’re thirty?” he asks suddenly. You blink. “What?” “This,” he says again. “Us. Just… sitting. Talking. Not needing anything else.” You smile. “Yeah. I think we will.” He hums. And you know he believes you. You glance at your watch. “I have to study.” He waves a hand lazily. “Go. I’ll still be here. Not going anywhere.” You get up, grab your laptop, and pause in the doorway. “You never have to prove anything here, Minho.” He looks up, eyes soft. “I know,” he says. “That’s why I always come back.”
~
You were curled up on the far end of the couch in Lee Know’s dorm, a steaming mug between your hands and your legs tucked underneath you. It was quiet, the kind of quiet that only comes when you’re close enough to someone that you don’t need to fill the silence. The sound of the washing machine spinning in the background, the soft hum of the heater, and the occasional clink of a spoon from the kitchen were the only interruptions.
He had gotten home late from practice, exhausted, hair still damp from a quick shower. You had already let yourself in earlier in the evening, something you'd done a million times before. His passcode hadn’t changed in years. “You eat?” he asked suddenly from the kitchen as he poked around the fridge, still in sweatpants and a loose hoodie that made him look younger.
You nodded, not looking up from your cup. “Yup. Left some pasta for you.” He walked over with a lazy smile, eyes crinkling, and sat beside you with a bowl in his hands, digging in without a second thought. “You’re the only reason I’ve had a home-cooked meal in weeks.” “You’re welcome,” you mumbled, stretching your legs out until your feet rested on his thigh. He didn’t flinch, he never did. This was just what you two were. Familiar, comfortable, steady.
“You’re quiet today,” he noted between bites. “Long week,” you shrugged. “Three back-to-back assignments, and I have a quiz on Monday.” He gave a low whistle and leaned his head back against the couch. “You’re crazy. I wouldn’t last five minutes in a university classroom.” “You barely lasted five minutes in high school.” “Yah.” You both broke into easy laughter, and for a second, the weight on your shoulders didn’t feel so heavy.
~
Later, you helped him clean up the kitchen. He stood behind you at the sink, reaching over your shoulder to grab a towel, his chest brushing lightly against your back for a moment longer than necessary. Your heart jumped. You moved slightly to the side and turned, only to find him already watching you. The lighting was dim, warm, soft around the edges like a scene out of a late-night drama. But this wasn’t that kind of story.
“Do you ever think,” you started slowly, drying your hands, “about how weird it is that I know everything about your boring personal life, but most people only know the you on stage?” Lee Know blinked once. Then twice. “I like that you know the boring stuff,” he said after a beat. “Feels like… I still have something that’s mine. Something real.” You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.
~
The night wound down the way it always did when you stayed over. You both lay on opposite ends of his bed, the blanket tug-of-war already starting. Your phone buzzed with another university group chat blowing up, and his alarm was set for 5:30 AM. He looked over at you under the soft glow of his nightlight. “You okay?” “Yeah.” “You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?” 
“Of course,” you lied. Or maybe it wasn’t a lie. You just didn’t know what to say anymore. Because every now and then, moments like that kitchen scene happened. And you’d think, if we weren’t best friends, would this be something else? But you pushed the thought away. Again.
~
The next few days blurred into one long stretch of textbooks, lecture notes, and the gentle ding of notifications from group chats you were tired of muting. You had barely slept, living off cold coffee and half-eaten toast. You hadn’t seen Lee Know all week. He texted sometimes. Usually something random. “I stepped on Seungmin’s plushie by accident, and he looked at me like I committed murder.” or “Are you alive or just slowly becoming part of your desk?”
But Thursday night, he called. You were lying face-down on your bed, brain fried from memorizing physiology notes, when your phone buzzed. “Hello?” you mumbled into your pillow. “You sound like you’ve been hit by a truck,” he said immediately. “I basically have. The truck was made of finals and sleepless nights.”
He didn’t laugh, but you heard his smile. “Come over.” You groaned. “Minho-” “I ordered your favorite chicken. You don’t have to talk. Just come be human furniture for a few hours.” You considered it. Your skin prickled at the idea of fresh air. And honestly, you missed him. More than you were willing to admit.
Thirty minutes later, you were curled up on the same couch, his blanket tossed over you, the drama he picked playing softly on the TV. He sat beside you in silence, eating his food slowly. He looked tired. Not just in the physical sense, something about his posture, the way his shoulder leaned into the cushion, like even sitting up was too much.
“You good?” you asked softly. He blinked, turning to look at you. “I had a rough week.” “You wanna talk about it?” He shook his head. “Not really.” So you nodded. That was the deal. You didn’t push. He didn’t run. You watched in silence as his gaze dropped to your hand resting beside his on the couch. He didn't move. Neither did you.
“Sometimes,” he said quietly, “I feel like I only breathe properly when you’re around.” Your breath hitched. But you didn’t flinch. Didn’t ruin the moment with some half-hearted joke like you usually would. “Me too,” you said. He glanced at you then. That unreadable look in his eyes again. Like he was trying to decide something. Or fight something. You looked away.
~
Later, when he was walking you to the door, you hesitated. “Minho,” you said, shifting from foot to foot. “Do you think we’ll always be like this?” He frowned. “Like what?” “This close. This… safe.” A pause. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I hope so.” You nodded slowly, chest tight. “I just don’t want to lose this,” you whispered. He tilted his head, watching you.
“Then we won’t.” He said it like a promise. And for now, you decided to believe him. “When did you get so big? I can't even hug you anymore.”
~
It wasn’t unusual for Minho to crash at your place when he needed to disappear for a bit. Your tiny apartment, with its mismatched cushions and soft music, was his sanctuary away from rehearsals and the spotlight. But tonight, he showed up with a duffel bag. "Are you moving in?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as he stepped in, hoodie over his head and mask still in place. “Technically? Just for the weekend,” he said, kicking his shoes off. “Chan hyung said I looked like I hadn’t slept in five days.” You made a face. “Have you?” “No comment.”
So you fed him, made him tea, and let him flop on your bed while you sat cross-legged on the floor, back against the side of the mattress, laptop open to your notes. His hand dangled lazily over the edge, fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder as you typed. The silence between you was thick, but comforting. Familiar. Like a song you knew all the lyrics to.
“Y/N,” he said after a long stretch, voice low and tired. “Yeah?” “You’re the only place I feel real in.” The words didn’t make sense right away, not fully. But they settled over you like a soft blanket. Heavy with meaning. Full of things unsaid. You didn’t turn to look at him, afraid the emotion in your eyes might give too much away. “You’re real everywhere,” you said quietly. “No,” he murmured. “I’m someone else everywhere else. With you… I’m just me.”
You closed your laptop slowly. Then crawled up onto the bed beside him. He shifted, making room, and you curled beside him. Not touching. Not quite. The night passed slowly. You talked about small things, music, old memories, the time you got stuck in the rain after a festival, and had to hide under a stranger’s umbrella. He laughed so hard he wheezed. You loved that sound.
At some point, the laughter faded. His hand found yours beneath the blanket. It wasn’t romantic. Not intentionally. But it wasn’t innocent either. You stared at the ceiling, both of you pretending this wasn’t a shift. That your heart wasn’t thrumming. That his thumb wasn’t tracing soft circles on your wrist like it belonged there. “Do you ever think about what people would say if they knew?” you whispered. “Knew what?” “How much we mean to each other.”
He was silent for a moment. Then “I don’t care what they’d say.” You turned to look at him. He was already watching you. There was something in his gaze you hadn’t seen before. Or maybe you'd just never let yourself notice it. You could’ve leaned in. You could’ve closed the gap. But you didn’t. And neither did he. Because this was the space you lived in, the almost, the maybe, the comfort of what could be. And neither of you was ready to break it.
~
Later that night, after he’d fallen asleep, curled toward you, breath soft and even, you stayed awake. Thinking about the way he held your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. Wondering if you were still just best friends. And terrified of what it would mean if you weren’t.
When you woke up, Minho wasn’t there. You got up and noticed him in the shower, so you sat on the couch thinking about last night when Minho returned a few minutes later, toweling off his damp hair. You were curled up on the couch with your laptop, trying to finish an assignment due at midnight. He peeked over your shoulder, reading the first few lines before flopping beside you with a dramatic sigh.
“You’re still doing schoolwork? It’s a Saturday.” “It’s due tonight,” you mumbled, not looking up. “And I procrastinated the entire week, so…” “I literally saw you binge two full dramas in three days,” he said flatly, grabbing a throw pillow and hugging it. “And you ignored my texts.”
“Excuse me, I replied eventually.” “Two hours later with ‘oops.’” You smiled guiltily. “I was immersed.” Minho gave you a side glance. “In the plot or the male lead?” “…No comment.” He smirked and leaned back. “Must be nice. I don’t even have time to finish an episode these days.” You looked over at him, your fingers still resting on the keyboard. “How are you doing, though? Like… actually?”
He blinked, caught off guard. “I’m okay. Tired, mostly. But being on stage kind of resets everything. Makes it worth it.” You nodded, your tone soft. “You always seem like you’ve got it together. But I worry sometimes. I know being an idol is… a lot.” Minho didn’t answer immediately. The room settled into a comfortable silence, broken only by the faint hum of your laptop fan.
“I don’t talk about it much,” he said finally. “But yeah, it’s overwhelming sometimes. The schedules, the pressure to be perfect all the time, the comments online…” You shut your laptop and turned toward him fully. “You don’t have to be perfect, Min. Not with me.” He gave you a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes at first. “I know. That’s why I like coming here. You’re the only person who treats me like I’m just… Minho. Not Lee Know.” You scooted closer and bumped his knee gently with yours. “Because you are just Minho to me. My annoying best friend, who once cried because he bit into a dumpling too hot.”
His mouth dropped open in mock offense. “That was one time. And it burned my tongue!” You both laughed, the moment lightening again. “I’m glad you come here,” you said after a beat. “Even if it’s just to nap and steal my snacks.” “You love it when I nap here.” “I do not-okay, maybe I do.”
Minho tilted his head and looked at you curiously. “You’re one of the only people I can actually rest around.” You swallowed. There was something in his tone, gentle, sincere, almost vulnerable. “I’m glad,” you said quietly. “I always want you to feel safe here.” He nudged you with his foot. “You’re kind of my safe place.” That made your heart thud a little louder than usual, but you played it cool. “Does that mean I get honorary member status?” “No way,” he said instantly. “You’re too normal to survive in that dorm.” “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Minho chuckled, and then after a pause, said, “Promise you won’t disappear if things get busier? Or if I can’t reply often?” You blinked. “Minho… I’m not going anywhere.” He looked at you, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. Then he nodded, once. “Good.” He didn’t say more, and neither did you. Instead, he handed you one of the pillows and leaned back, letting his shoulder brush against yours. Eventually, you reopened your laptop, and he pulled out his phone. Neither of you said much for a while, but the air felt lighter, somehow. Like home.
The afternoon sun slanted through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the living room where you and Minho sat. You were still curled up on the couch, textbooks spread on your lap, while he absentmindedly flipped through his phone beside you. The easy comfort between you felt familiar, like an old song you both knew the words to.
But beneath the surface, something had changed.
It wasn’t a dramatic moment or a sudden confession. It was the way his hand brushed yours when he reached over to grab a notebook. The way his eyes lingered on you a little longer than usual when you laughed at one of his jokes. The way your heart beat a little faster when he glanced up, catching you staring.
You shoved those thoughts aside, blaming the lingering caffeine and tiredness. “Hey,” Minho said softly, breaking the silence. “Do you want to go out tonight? Just a quiet dinner or something?” You blinked, surprised. “Tonight? Isn’t practice really intense right now?” He shrugged, eyes searching yours. “I want to spend time with you. Away from all the noise.” You smiled, feeling the warmth of that simple invitation spread through your chest. “I’d like that.”
Later, as the city lights flickered on and painted the streets gold, you both wandered through a quiet neighborhood, sharing stories and memories that weren’t usually part of your usual talks. It was easy, effortless, but underneath it all, you felt the weight of something unspoken. At one point, Minho paused, glancing down at his hands. “I’ve been thinking… about us.” Your breath caught. He looked up, cheeks flushed, the vulnerability in his eyes unmistakable. “I don’t want to mess up our friendship, but… I think I’m starting to see you differently.”
Your heart thudded painfully, a mixture of hope and fear flooding through you. “I think… I feel the same.” He smiled, a little nervous, but so genuine it made your chest ache. “So… what do we do now?” You reached out, your fingers brushing his, finding courage in the quiet strength of that touch. “We take it slow. No rush. Just… see where it goes.” He nodded, relief washing over his face. “I’m glad.”
For the first time, as you walked side by side under the stars, the line between best friend and something more felt blurred but beautiful. Neither of you said much, but the silence was full of promise. Because sometimes, the deepest feelings begin not with fireworks, but with the quiet courage to admit what’s already been there.
You kept walking side by side, the city’s hum a soft backdrop to the whirlwind inside your chest. Every time Minho’s hand brushed against yours, it sent a tiny jolt of electricity through your nerves, but neither of you pulled away. Instead, you let your fingers brush, barely touching, like a secret conversation spoken without words.
You found a quiet bench near a small park, where the autumn leaves had started to fall, crisp and golden. Minho sat down first, patting the spot beside him, inviting you to join. You hesitated only for a moment before sitting down, your shoulder almost brushing his. Neither of you spoke for a while. The silence was heavy but comfortable, like the pause between breaths.
“I’ve always admired you,” Minho finally said, voice low and sincere. “Not just because you’re smart or funny, but because you’re real. You never put on a mask for me. And I guess… I never realized how much that meant to me until now.” Your heart softened. You looked at him, really looked, at the way his eyes held a quiet vulnerability, the way his lips twitched in a shy smile. The boy you’d known as your closest friend was suddenly someone else, someone new and exciting and frightening all at once.
“I feel the same,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “You’re the person I come back to when everything else feels too much. Like… my safe place.” Minho turned toward you, the faint glow from a nearby streetlamp illuminating the soft curve of his face. For a moment, your breath hitched as he leaned in, his hand gently reaching to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was featherlight but sent a wave of warmth through you.
“I want to be that for you too. Not just as your friend, but something more.” Your cheeks flushed, and you swallowed hard, suddenly shy beneath his gaze. But then you smiled, an honest, open smile that said yes without words. “Me too,” you said, barely above a breath. He smiled, relieved and happy, but your heart pounded fiercely, like it was trying to break free.
Your eyes met his, and you saw the same mix of hope and uncertainty there. “This doesn’t change anything unless we want it to,” Minho said quietly. “We’re still us, no matter what.” You nodded, the weight in your chest lifting. “Exactly.” You spent the rest of the evening walking slowly, hand in hand, talking about everything and nothing—about dreams, fears, and what the future might hold. For the first time, the possibility of ‘us’ didn’t feel scary. It felt like coming home.
Minho nudged you gently with his shoulder, a teasing grin on his face. “So, are you going to make me jealous with all these deep confessions, or am I still your number one best friend?” You laughed, bumping him back playfully. “You’re definitely still number one, don’t get cocky.” He threw his arm around your shoulders as you walked side by side. “Good. Because I have a feeling you’ll always be stuck with me.” You shook your head with a smile. “I’m not complaining. You’re one of the best things in my life.”
“Right back at you.” Minho looked at you, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hey, remember that time I helped you study for that impossible exam and you totally aced it?” You groaned. “You mean the time you almost let me fail because you kept distracting me with ridiculous jokes?”
Minho laughed loudly. “Okay, okay, but you still passed. Thanks to me.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your grin. “Yeah, yeah. I guess your stupid jokes were helpful after all.” The two of you kept walking, talking about everything and nothing, your plans for the weekend, the latest funny moments from the dorm, silly idol gossip, and inside jokes that no one else would understand.
At one point, Minho pulled you into a sudden, tight side hug, and you leaned into him without hesitation. “Thanks for always being here,” you said softly. “Always,” he replied. “No matter what.” You paused, realizing how much you valued this friendship, the kind of friendship where you could be your true self without pretending, where silence was just as meaningful as words, and where the simplest moments felt special. “Promise me one thing?” Minho asked suddenly. “Anything.” “No matter where life takes us, no matter how busy we get, we don’t lose this. Us.” You smiled warmly and squeezed his hand. “Promise.” As you headed back to the dorm, the air was lighter, your steps in sync, best friends, partners in crime, and maybe something more someday, but for now, just perfectly content being exactly who you are together.
Back at the Minsung dorm, the energy shifted instantly. The place felt like home, cluttered with shared memories, music, and the unmistakable buzz of close-knit friendships. Minho flopped down on the couch with a dramatic sigh, tossing his phone aside. “Man, I swear you and Jisung have way too much chemistry. I’m just here observing.” You laughed, settling into the armchair across from him. “Chemistry? We’re just best friends. Nothing more.”
“Oh, come on. I see the way you two look at each other when you think no one’s watching.” You snorted, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous. Besides, Jisung is busy preparing for his comeback. I’m just the annoying friend who barges in with snacks and bad jokes.” Minho smiled and shook his head. “You’re more than that. You’re family.”
Just then, Jisung appeared in the doorway, hair messy from practice, a towel slung around his neck. He grinned when he saw you and Minho. “What are you two plotting?” “Nothing,” you said quickly, though Minho gave you a pointed look. Jisung raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Uh-huh. Right.” Minho stood up, stretching. “I was just telling Y/N how you two have some kind of secret language or something.”
Jisung laughed and walked over to sit next to you on the couch. “We do. It’s called years of friendship.” You nudged him playfully. “Yeah, and a lot of teasing.” Jisung grinned and gave you a quick, brotherly side hug. “Well, get ready. After this comeback, I’m dragging you to a dance practice. I want to see those moves you always brag about.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled. “You’re lucky I like you.” Minho laughed, grabbing a bag of chips from the table. “I swear, one day, you two are going to surprise me and admit you’re secretly dating.” “Keep dreaming, Minho,” you said, nudging him back. Jisung glanced at you with a playful smirk. “Maybe I should.” You caught his gaze, your heart skipping for just a moment before you shook it off. “Not happening.”
The evening slipped into easy chatter, discussing upcoming schedules, favorite songs, and ridiculous idol gossip. The way the three of you fit together felt effortless. At one point, Minho picked up the remote and switched the TV to a dance competition show. “Alright, Y/N, since you’re the pro dancer around here, teach me something.” You laughed and stood up, stretching. “Prepare to be embarrassed.”
Minho grinned, dropping down into a loose squat, ready to follow your lead. Jisung joined in, leaning against the wall with a smirk, clearly amused. As you demonstrated a tricky footwork move, Minho tripped over his own feet and fell backward, groaning dramatically. “Okay, okay, I surrender.” You helped him up, and Jisung laughed so hard he had to hold his stomach. “That’s my boy.” For a moment, the world outside the dorm melted away. There was just the three of you, best friends who could tease, challenge, support, and just be.
Later, as you curled up on the couch wearing Jisung’s oversized hoodie, Minho sat beside you, nudging your shoulder gently. “You look good in that hoodie.” You smiled shyly, pulling the hood over your head. “It’s comfy.” Jisung teased from across the room, “You stole my hoodie again, huh? That’s the third one this week.” You groaned, hiding your face in the fabric. “I’m cold.” Minho shook his head, smiling warmly. “You’re lucky you have us to keep you warm.” You glanced at both of them, grateful. “I know.”
~
The soft glow from the dorm’s living room lamp cast warm shadows as you and Minho settled onto the couch after dinner. You leaned back, your legs curled under you, and he stretched out beside you, the air between you charged but unspoken. Minho caught your gaze and gave a sly grin. “You know, you’ve been spending a lot of time here lately. Should I be worried you’re trying to steal my spot?” You smirked, nudging him playfully. “Oh, please. You’re the one who keeps making excuses to stay up late with me.”
He chuckled low, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Guilty as charged. But can you blame me? It’s rare to find someone who actually gets me.” You felt your cheeks warm as your fingers brushed against his arm. The contact was electric, a quiet current that neither of you rushed to break. Minho’s hand slid closer, his thumb tracing slow circles just above your wrist. “Do you ever think about what it’d be like… if this wasn’t just friendship?”
You swallowed, your heart beating faster. “All the time.” He leaned in, his breath warm near your ear. “Me too. But I’m scared it might change everything.” You turned your face just enough to catch his eye, lips curving into a teasing smile. “Maybe some things are better when they change.” His hand tightened slightly, bold but gentle. “You’re dangerous, you know that?” Your smile grew wider, matching his mischievous spark. “Only for you.”
The room seemed to shrink as the tension grew. You could almost feel the heat radiating from him, mixing with the nervous excitement coiling inside your chest. Suddenly, Minho’s fingers brushed your hair back from your face. “You’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” he murmured, voice low. You swallowed hard, breath hitching as his hand lingered a moment too long. “Minho…”
He smiled softly, lips just inches from yours. “We don’t have to decide anything now. Just… maybe let things happen naturally.” Your heart raced as you nodded, eyes fluttering closed for a second before opening to meet his. Minutes passed, the unspoken promise lingering in the air. Just friends, but maybe something more, something neither of you dared say out loud yet. Then, with a teasing grin, Minho pulled back and threw a pillow at you. “Okay, enough serious talk. Let’s see if you can keep up with me in a pillow fight.” You laughed breathlessly, the tension breaking, but the spark still glowing bright between you.
The pillow fight quickly turned into a full-on, laughter-filled battle. Feathers, or whatever stuffing was left, flew everywhere as you and Minho chased each other around the living room, dodging and weaving between couches and the coffee table. Your chest heaved with laughter, and Minho’s eyes sparkled with joy and something more, a hint of desire barely contained.
You tackled him lightly onto the couch, breathless from laughing and the chase. Minho caught you effortlessly, his hands resting on your waist. His gaze dropped to your lips, then back up to your eyes, like he was weighing some silent question.
For a moment, time froze. You could almost feel his heartbeat through his chest, felt your own thundering in your ears. Then, with a playful grin, he leaned back and whispered, “You’re lucky you’re so distracting.” You rolled your eyes, but your smile softened. “Distracting? You’re the one who can’t keep his hands to himself.” Minho shrugged with mock innocence, but there was a spark in his eyes that said otherwise. He traced lazy circles along your side, fingers light but deliberate.
“You make it hard to just be friends, you know.” You shifted closer, your shoulder brushing his. “Maybe we don’t have to be just friends all the time.” He smiled, that slow, knowing smile that sent shivers down your spine. “Careful what you wish for.”
The room felt warmer, smaller somehow, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. The world outside faded to nothing but you and him, the space between charged with promises neither dared say aloud yet. Then Minho leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “So… what’s stopping us?”
You bit your lip, heart racing. “Fear, probably.” “Or maybe,” he said, eyes locked on yours, “we just need to stop thinking so much.” You laughed softly, the tension breaking but not gone, lingering like the last notes of a song. Minho’s hand found yours again, squeezing gently. “One step at a time, yeah? For now, I’m happy just having you here.”
You nodded, squeezing back. “Me too.” And with that, you both settled back, the quiet comfort between you now layered with something sweet and new, the thrilling hint of something more waiting just beneath the surface.
~
The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the fan and the muted background noise of a drama playing on the TV, neither of you was really watching. You were curled up on one end of the couch in one of Minho’s oversized hoodies, bare legs tucked beneath you, a bowl of half-eaten tteokbokki resting between you two.
Minho sat next to you, legs stretched out, one arm lazily thrown over the back of the couch. The proximity wasn’t unusual, this was how it had always been. Close. Comfortable. Maybe a little too comfortable lately. You leaned over, pointing at the screen. “That’s totally you when you’re mad.” He scoffed. “I don’t pout like that.”
“You do,” you teased, nudging his thigh with your foot. “Especially when I steal your hoodie.” He smirked, but didn’t argue. Silence stretched, not awkward, but charged. The kind of quiet that says too much without words. You could feel the shift in the air. His gaze lingered longer than usual. Yours met it and stayed. “You’ve gotten... different,” he murmured after a while, his eyes scanning your face slowly.
“Different how?” you asked, heart suddenly thudding too loudly in your chest. He shrugged, but his fingers brushed yours as he reached for another rice cake. “I don’t know. Glowy. More confident. Kind of annoying.” “Wow. Thanks.” You rolled your eyes but smiled. You didn’t pull your hand away when your pinky hooked with his. Another pause.
“Do you miss home?” he asked softly, eyes still on the screen, but you knew he was watching you from the corner of his eye. You nodded. “Sometimes. But not when I’m here.” His eyes flicked to yours. “Why?” “Because you’re here,” you said, too fast, too honest. Then you panicked. “And, like... the food is better.”
He laughed, eyes crinkling. But then he shifted a little closer, and your knees brushed. Neither of you moved away. You turned toward him slightly, and he mirrored the motion. Close enough that you could see the faint scar on his jaw, the warmth in his gaze. His eyes dropped to your lips for a second before flicking back to your eyes. Your breath caught. The tension, long buried under jokes and casual touches, sparked and curled low in your stomach.
He leaned in slightly. His hand, warm and strong, settled on your waist, not possessive, just anchoring. “You think about this?” You nodded, barely. “Don’t you?” His forehead rested against yours, breath mingling with yours. The moment crackled with restrained emotion, years of friendship teetering on the edge. “I think about you all the time,” he confessed. Then his hand moved, slow and deliberate, sliding around your waist and tugging you gently into his lap. You didn’t resist. Your thighs settled on either side of him, the hem of the hoodie riding up, skin brushing his sweats.
Neither of you said anything. You were just… there. Breathing the same air. His hands on your hips, your hands gripping the sides of his hoodie. His eyes locked on yours. You shifted slightly, unintentionally, and his grip tightened. Your bodies aligned, the slow roll of tension more electric than any kiss. He exhaled shakily. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna lose my mind,” he murmured. You smiled, teasing. “Doing what?” He groaned softly, leaning forward until his lips hovered near your ear. “You really want me to show you?”
The air between you sizzled. But neither of you moved to close the distance completely. Not yet. This wasn’t the moment for that. But it was close. And you were both okay waiting a little longer, just to make sure when it happened, it meant everything. You shivered at his breath grazing your ear, the warmth sending a spark that spread all the way down your spine. Your heart hammered in your chest, loud enough that you were sure he could hear it too.
“Show me,” you whispered, your voice barely steady, teasing yet full of hope. He smiled, slow and knowing, his fingers tightening just a little around your waist. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, searching, asking silently if you really meant it. You nodded, biting your lip, cheeks flushing.
He shifted, moving his face slowly closer, his lips just inches from yours. You could feel the heat radiating between you. The world around you blurred, and the only thing that mattered was the space between your lips. But just as his lips were about to brush yours, he pulled back, eyes dark and filled with restraint. “Not yet,” he said, voice low and rough. “I want this to be right. I don’t want to ruin what we have.”
Your breath hitched, emotions swirling. You knew what he meant. The friendship, the bond you’d built over the years, was fragile and precious. But there was something deeper now, something electric and undeniable. You reached up, cupping his cheek gently, thumb brushing over the faint stubble there. “I don’t want to lose what we have either. But I want to see where this could go too.” His hand left your waist to slide into your hair, fingers threading through the strands at the nape of your neck. His eyes searched yours again, softening.
“Then let’s take it slow,” he murmured. “One moment at a time.” You smiled, a slow, genuine smile that made his chest tighten. “I like that.” He leaned in again, this time slower, more deliberate. When his lips finally met yours, it was gentle—an exploration, a promise, a question all at once. Your body melted into his, the heat building with every second. His hands moved from your waist to your back, pulling you closer as if afraid you might slip away.
You tangled your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss, your pulse racing. When you finally pulled away, breathless, his forehead rested against yours. “You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased, your voice a soft laugh. He grinned, and the tension broke, replaced by a warmth that settled comfortably between you. For now, the promise of more hung in the air. And you were ready to see where this path would lead, side by side.
After that first kiss, everything felt different but still the same. The easy comfort of your friendship remained, but now it was laced with an undercurrent of something more, a delicious tension that made every touch, every glance, feel electric. You both stayed like that for a while, foreheads touching, breathing slow and steady. Then he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his smile shy but full of warmth.
“Can I stay a little longer?” he asked quietly, as if the words were the hardest thing he’d said all day. Your heart skipped. “Yeah,” you breathed. “I want that.” He settled beside you on the couch, close enough that your legs brushed. You felt his hand slide to rest on your thigh, palm warm and steady. You looked down, feeling your cheeks flush. You didn’t pull away.
Instead, you let your fingers trace lazy circles on his arm, your eyes meeting his. Neither of you said anything, the silence between you was comfortable, filled with all the unspoken things you both wanted to say but weren’t quite ready for yet. Then, almost playfully, he shifted so his body pressed closer, his hips nudging yours. You felt the heat pooling low in your belly.
Lee Know’s hand moved slowly up your thigh, fingertips teasing just beneath the hem of your shorts. You swallowed hard, heart pounding in your ears. He caught your gaze again, and in that look was a mix of mischief and something softer, affection, maybe even a little nervousness. Without breaking eye contact, he started to grind just a little, slow and deliberate, testing the waters.
You bit your lip, warmth blooming all over. Your hands moved to his waist, steadying yourself but not pushing him away. His breath hitched as the movement grew bolder, and your body responded instinctively, matching his rhythm. For a moment, the world outside faded away, it was just you and him, close and connected, exploring the edges of something new and thrilling.
When he finally stopped, resting his forehead against yours again, both of you were breathless. “I don’t want to rush,” he whispered. “But damn, you drive me insane.” You laughed softly, heart pounding but happy. “Same here.” He brushed his nose against yours, a silent promise hanging between you. 
You stayed pressed together on the couch, the air thick with heat and unspoken desire. His hand slid from your thigh to trace slow, teasing circles higher up, barely hidden under the edge of your shorts. You swallowed hard, heart pounding like a drum in your chest. Lee Know’s eyes darkened as he watched your reaction, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin at the top of your thigh. “You’re driving me crazy,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.
You bit your lip, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt as he shifted closer, grinding his hips gently against yours. The friction was electric, sending warmth straight to your core. Your breaths came faster, breaths mingling in the small space between your faces. His hand moved deliberately, sliding under your shorts, fingers grazing over your bare skin with feather-light touches that made you shiver. You reached for his neck, pulling him in for a slow, deep kiss that tasted of everything you’d been holding back.
His tongue traced the seam of your lips, asking for entrance, and you eagerly parted for him. The kiss deepened, hungry and sweet, as his hand explored further, slipping lower between your thighs, finding the heat that was already wet and waiting. Your body responded instinctively, arching into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. His fingers moved with expert care, circling and pressing, making you gasp and tremble beneath him.
He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his breath ragged. “You feel so good,” he whispered, his voice thick with need. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” You smiled through the haze of pleasure, your hands threading through his hair as he kissed a trail down your jaw and neck. His lips left hot, lingering marks that made your skin burn.
The grinding between your bodies grew more urgent, hips rolling together in a slow, sensual rhythm that made you dizzy. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him impossibly close, your hearts beating in sync. “You’re mine,” he murmured against your skin, voice rough with desire. “Yes,” you breathed, needing him as much as he needed you.
Time slipped away as you lost yourselves in each other, every touch, every sigh, every whisper deepening the connection between best friends, becoming something more.
He pushed two fingers in, not caring about you, and started thrusting them in and out. You almost screamed but he curled his fingers right at your g-spot, like he knew your pussy, like he has done this a million time before, causing you to moan loud. "Fuck y/n-" as he curls them again and again and your fingers find their way into his hair. He never took his eyes off you, "Cum on my fingers, let me watch how you look when you go dumb with my fingers" that caused you to shatter under his fingers.
He never stopped his fingers. "Too much Minho," you whimpered, only then he pulled his hand out, licking both the fingers and moaning at the taste. When you finally came down from the waves of pleasure, Lee Know held you tight, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your skin as you both caught your breath.
“This is only the beginning,” he promised, lips brushing softly over your temple. You smiled, heart full and alive. “I’m not going anywhere.” You stayed curled in Lee Know’s arms, the warmth of his body grounding you as the aftershocks of pleasure settled. His fingertips traced slow, soothing lines along your spine, every touch sending little sparks that made your skin tingle all over again.
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss just beneath your ear, his breath warm and intoxicating. “You’re breathtaking,” he whispered, voice husky with something raw and real. You blushed, heart hammering, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. The way he looked at you now, like you were the only person in the world, made your breath catch. It was more than friendship; it was a promise, a beginning neither of you dared to say out loud yet.
Lee Know’s hand slid down to your waist, fingers tightening just a bit as he slowly ground against you again, this time with more purpose. You gasped softly, hips instinctively rolling into his rhythm. His lips found yours once more, deeper and more demanding this time, hands exploring every inch of you, mapping out the places that made you shiver. You melted against him, every nerve alive with pleasure and longing.
The couch creaked beneath you, the world outside disappearing as you two lost yourselves in the moment, teasing, grinding, exploring, and discovering. His fingers slipped beneath your tank top, fingertips grazing over your bare skin, and you arched into him, breath hitching. He kissed down your neck, teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you shiver and sigh. “You’re incredible,” he murmured against your collarbone, his lips leaving a trail of fire.
You bit your lip, hands tangling in his hair again, pulling him closer, needing every bit of him. The way he moved against you, careful and confident, made you feel cherished and wanted all at once. When his hand slid lower again, brushing over your soaked core through your shorts, you shuddered, biting back a moan. His fingers stroked you gently, the friction driving you wild.
Lee Know’s eyes locked on yours, dark and intense. “Do you want more?” he asked softly, voice thick with need. You nodded, words failing you, lost in the way he made you feel, safe, desired, alive. He smiled, slow and teasing, before capturing your lips in another searing kiss. “Then let me show you.”
And with that, he deepened the connection, bodies pressed, breaths mingling, and hearts beating in time as your friendship melted into something far more delicious and profound. Lee Know’s lips pressed firmly against yours, slow and deliberate at first, like he was savoring every second of this new closeness between you. His hands found your waist, fingers tracing gentle lines under your shirt, pulling you just a little closer. Your breath hitched, a flutter of nerves and excitement pooling low in your belly.
You’d been best friends for so long, sharing laughs, late-night talks, and quiet comfort. But now, this, this was something new. His touch was both electrifying and safe, grounding you in a way no one else ever had. Your hands reached up, threading through his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. You felt his smile against your lips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing softly, exploring like he was learning every part of you. The warmth of his body against yours made your heart race, and the boundaries you’d always kept so firmly began to melt away.
Slowly, he shifted, lowering you down onto the couch where you’d spent countless hours just hanging out, watching TV, or sharing stories. But tonight, the couch was a different kind of stage, one where your friendship blurred into something far more intimate. Lee Know’s hands traveled down your sides, resting at the curve of your hips. You shivered as his fingers pressed gently against your skin, his touch so light it was almost teasing. Your body responded without hesitation, leaning into his warmth, needing more.
He whispered against your ear, his breath hot and enticing, “I’ve wanted this for so long.” Your cheeks flushed. “Me too,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. You let your hands roam over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms. The weight of years of friendship wrapped in trust made every touch feel sacred, every movement slow and meaningful.
He took your shorts off, no permission needed. He knew you wanted this as much as him, if not more. "I can't do this anymore." You watched as he pulled his shorts down, revealing himself. His dick was huge, you gasp and he caught that. "Think you can take me?" he smirks at you, as he crawls over you, lining up next to your awaiting opening. "You're not the first cock I'm taking. I've seen bigger dicks" you tease. "Yeah? Bet no one knows how to make you come with just my fingers. Did you ever beg someone?"
"I don't beg." He raises one eyebrow. You are confused as to why he isn't moving, so you try to lift your hips, to show him that you want some sort of friction- anything. He pushes you down with one hand, forcefully. "Try that again babygirl and see what happens" which leaves your mouth hanging. "What do you want? Say it, bitch"
"I want you, in me, NOW." "Yeah? Ask nicely," you whine as he starts pulling away from you. "Please-" he smirks and stops his movements. "Was that hard now? Say that again," as he starts lining up again. "Please fuck me Minho, I need you, please."
Lee Know’s hips shifted, pressing against you hard, the friction sending a delicious heat spiraling through your body. You matched his rhythm instinctively, grinding gently against him as your bodies started moving together in perfect harmony. He slammed into your walls, like you were his toy to use.
"You're mine now, Gonna fuck you dumb. Gonna fill you up, slut" The feeling in you was both new and familiar, like rediscovering a favorite song with fresh ears. "Don't stop......please," He smirks at your begging. "You learn quick, keep begging like that, for my cock, yeah?" His hands slipped under your shirt, tracing the smooth skin of your ribs, sending shivers in their wake. Your fingers tightened in his hair as he deepened the kiss again, his tongue dancing with yours as desire bloomed into something undeniable. Between kisses, his voice was low and husky. “You’re mine now,” he murmured, fingers curling to cup your cheek. Your breath hitched as you smiled against him, “I’m yours.”
You felt him smile, his lips brushing yours once more before his hands traveled down to your thighs, fingers pressing firmly through your clit, sparking a fire that spread through you like wildfire. " Think about it, and I'll stop right here" he said when he felt your walls clenching. Grinding against him, your body tingling with sensation, every curve, every movement heightened by the closeness, the trust, and the warmth that had always been there but never this raw.
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, breath catching, “So… we’re definitely not just best friends anymore.” Lee Know chuckled, eyes dark and full of affection. “No. Definitely not. But that’s the best part.” The air between you was thick with unspoken promises, of tenderness, of passion, of the kind of love that grew slowly and deeply, rooted in years of friendship and understanding.
He pulled out of you, and you whined at the loss of him in you. "Stop being a brat, you needy little slut. You'll get to come." He flipped you on your stomach and pulled you up on your knees, instantly slamming inside you. You couldn't hold it in anymore as you shattered without warning, yelling his name loud "Minho-" His hand lands on your ass, "You feel so good, gonna fill you up. You want that?" You moan hard as he thrusts one more time before releasing his hot strings of love into you, filling you up deep as you clenched, sucking every little drop inside you. 
After a while, when both your hearts are pounding, breaths mingling as you lie tangled together on the couch, Lee Know brushes a strand of hair from your face, his fingertips soft and gentle. “You feel like home,” he whispered. You smiled, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. “You’re my home too.” He tightened his arms around you, holding you close as the world outside faded away.
~
Days passed, each one deepening your connection. You shared stolen kisses in quiet moments, playful touches that sent shivers down your spine, and late-night talks that stretched into the early morning. The easy comfort of friendship remained, but it was now woven with the thrilling electricity of being something more.
One evening, as you curled up on the couch, his hand finding yours and holding it like a lifeline, he looked at you with a softness that made your heart swell. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, voice steady and sure. “I’m yours, if you want me.” You smiled through happy tears, squeezing his hand. “I want you. Always.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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kirislovelygf · 1 year ago
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haunted pt. 1 (ronal x metkayina fem! reader)
content: you and ronal have been married for about 14 years and have lived with the metkayina happily ever since you left the forest. now imagine your surprise when your ex appears out of nowhere with the man she cheated on you with and the family they built together.
content also: ronal x reader, a bit of neytiri x reader, flirting, arguing, secrets, fluff, angst, and uhmmm ronal being the best wife
wrd count: 3.2k
a/n: this might be a two-three parter but i saw this idea floating around here somewhere and thought i’d make my own version without tonowari being part of it bc why. (can you tell i hate men)
꒰ 🥥 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:・゚
it was a perfect morning so far. ronal and i were at home, i was taking care of her. the kids were out and about.
tonowari was somewhere, i didn’t really care.
the sun was out and we were happy. until the outsiders came.
i was sitting in our shared marui, styling ronal’s hair while she sat in front of me. i hummed to myself while gently combing through her wavy hair.
“i have to train some of the children today. on the ilu.” i informed her.
“how fun.” she muttered.
i slapped her shoulder. “children respond easier when you don’t yell at them, my love.”
“if you don’t yell, they don’t listen. look at ao’nung.” she said, gesturing to her son playing in the water with his best friend.
one of them tackled the other info the water and was keeping them under the surface.
“that’s strange. when i ask him to do things, he does it the first time i say.” i said.
“yes, with you. i feel like i repeat myself 10 times everyday just to get that boy to listen.” she sighed out. i laughed slightly.
“he’s a teenager. he will grow out of that disobedience phase soon.” i put a finishing charm on the back of her head and then reached for the shell that ronal put on her forehead everyday.
i handed it to her to put on and i looked through my things for a mirror.
once i found it, i held it up to her face so she could look at her reflection. she held it and she started to touch her cheeks.
where her wrinkles were, her birthmarks. any sign of aging she could find.
“i’m getting old, my love.” she sighed out, putting the mirror down. she stands up and turns to help me up as well.
“no, you’re just growing wiser.” i smiled. she laughed and put my arms around her neck.
she hugged my waist closer to her body and kissed me. she pulled away and examined my face.
“you’re not getting any younger either, you know.” she muttered.
“wow. all you know is how to insult, don’t you?”
“i thought it was funny.”
“no.”
“i’m sorry! you know i love you.”
“no, too late.” i tried to get myself off her, but she pulled me back into her embrace. she held my face up to hers and kissed me again.
i laughed against her lips and pulled away when a horn began to sound in the distance.
i turned my head to see the opening of our marui. na’vi we’re running past, diving into the water, rushing all into one direction.
“what’s happening..” i muttered to myself. ronal and i walked toward the tarp that covered the entrance and i pulled it to the side.
i asked one of the villagers why everyone was running.
“apparently other na’vi have landed on the beach.” he said simply.
i looked at ronal all excited to greet the newcomers. but she looked.. worried. and unpleasant.
“let’s go meet them. maybe they’re nice.” i shrugged.
“hmph.” she huffed. she walked past me and onto the woven pathways.
we walked together to the growing cluster of green villagers gathering on the beach.
tonowari, ronal’s ex-husband, had already approached them and was greeting them.
my heart raced when i saw ikrans. my ikran passed away from old age years ago and i hadn’t seen one since then.
“ronal, they’re from the forest! i wonder if they’re omaticaya like me. maybe we’re from the same clan.” i smiled excitedly, grabbing her hand.
“even if they are, they’re still outsiders.” she mumbled.
“ronal. please.” i sighed.
she rolled her eyes. i tugged on her hand to make her look at me.
“i was an outsider too. and you accepted me into the clan.” i said.
she stared with more sympathy. “that’s different.”
“how? you didn’t know me when i arrived. i could’ve been a threat. but you took the time to get to know me, and ended up loving me and who i am.” i said. her gaze softened as i spoke to her.
“please be kind to them, whoever they are. for me.” i nodded.
she stared and kept quiet for a moment. i just kept a smile on my face until she gave in.
“fine.”
i smiled and kissed her cheek. excitedly, i guided her by the hand through the group until we were at tonowari’s side.
in front of me was a na’vi man with long locs, a strong build, and a tired face and a woman beside him with a slim build and the same fatigue.
something about her looked familiar.
her face was mature, like mine.
she looked at me and her eyes struck something in my memory. the way she eyed me curiously, the way her entire family eyed me curiously.
“you.. you’re omaticaya?” the man asked me.
“yes! you come all the way from the forest to here?” i asked. i was astonished that this whole family came here in one piece.
i looked at the wife again and her gaze changed from curiosity to fear.
“y/n.” she spoke.
i tilted my head when she said my name. then i remembered.
i remembered the heartache and the anger i felt when i left home. all of it caused by them. my smile faded away as i spoke her name.
“neytiri..”
she sighed out. i look up at the man. the man who took her from me. he changes so much. he was bigger, stronger.
“jake sully.” i said.
“yeah, uh..” he looked at his wife and she was looking down at the sand, one hand attached to her small daughter.
her family was beautiful. two sons and two daughters. neytiri aged so gracefully. she looked happy. but right now..
“you can’t even look at me?” i said to her.
she said nothing.
ronal put her hand on my shoulder and i looked at her.
she asked if i was alright. i gave her a simple nod, excused myself, and walked away from the group.
i hadn’t seen neytiri in 14 years. i almost forgot what she looked like. she was regal now.
i stepped into the marui and started pacing the floor.
why in the world would she come here? why did she, of all the people in that clan, have to be here?
and oh course, she had to bring that stupid sky person with her. as if her leaving me for him wasn’t enough.
someone walked into the marui, bringing me out of my thoughts. tsireya looked worried and walked toward me.
“mama, what happened? i thought you would be excited for these people, they’re just like you.” she said.
“i’m sorry, tsireya. uhm..”
“what is it?” she asked kindly.
“i know these people. and i’m just a little shocked, i haven’t seen them since i left the forest maybe 14 or 15 years ago. but don't worry about me, i’ll be fine.” i explained.
“are you sure? because mother’s hissing at them.” she said.
“i’m sure she is. don’t worry, i bet your father is going to let them stay anyway.” i chuckled.
tsireya sighed out and i plastered a smile on my face so she wouldn’t worry.
“i’m okay.” i chuckled. i hugged her tightly. she looks up at me and i tuck a few stray strands of hair back into place.
“my little flower. always worried.” i muttered. i held her face in my hands before kissing her forehead.
“my father’s making us teach their children.” she said. i pulled away and held her hands in mine.
“oh, fun! how did ao’nung react?”
“he tried to argue and now he’s being
forced.” she laughed softly.
“aw, poor boy. well, at least you’ll make some new friends.” i said to her.
ronal pulled the tarp aside and walked inside.
“tsireya, go find your brother. i need to speak to mama.” she said kindly.
tsireya nodded and walked out without another word. she let the tarp down and walked toward me.
“what happened? you were so excited a moment ago and then you ran off.” she said.
“i’m sorry, ronal. i shouldn’t have left the way i did.” i sighed.
“is there something i should know about this family? i already know they’re half-demon. whatever you have to tell me can’t be worse than that.” she continued.
“well, i knew them. the mother and the father.” i said.
i never told her the full story of why i left the forest. it hurt to even think about it, so i always gave her the brunt of it whenever she asked.
i always said “i was in a relationship, it ended badly, and i left for a fresh start.” i never gave names or specifics.
“i would have suspected you did. you come from the same clan. that woman, neytiri, knew your name. and you knew hers.” she continued.
“she’s my ex girlfriend. except, she wasn’t a very good one. and it took me by surprise to see her here. i never thought i’d see her again.” i said to her.
ronal sighs softly. she picks up my hand and holds it.
“i wish you would tell me what was so bad about the forest that made you leave. i hate when you leave me in the dark like this.” she said.
i still didn’t want to tell her. i didn’t know how she’d react. ronal is a passionate woman. and her emotions can be a lot.
especially when she’s angry.
“i’m sorry, my love.” i pulled her close and hugged her.
i pull back and hold her hands. “you’ll have to tell me sooner or later. tonowari let them stay.”
“stay for how long…?” i asked.
she winced and hummed, hesitating to give me an answer.
“ronal.” i laughed out.
“well… they’re not leaving any time soon.” she shrugged.
“ugh, i’m going to kill that idiot.” i huffed, letting her hands go. i covered my face and groaned as she chuckled lightly.
“tonowari was being nice.”
“he’s always been too nice.” i grumbled.
i removed the hands from my face and sighed.
“oh right, i need to go. the kids with the ilu, uhm..”
“go. it’s fine. we’ll discuss this later, alright?” she smiled.
i smiled back and gave her a hug before tonowari walked in.
he held his arms out, looking all confused. “what happened?”
“ugghh.” i groaned loudly before walking past him.
“what-“
“don’t speak to me. big-headed idiot.” i grumbled, holding my hand up to his face.
i did what i needed to do for the afternoon and made my way home in the evening as the sun started to go away for the night.
i walked past the marui that neytiri and her family were in. the tarp was pulled to the side so i imagine someone in there saw me walk by.
i confirmed this when i heard her voice call for me.
i looked back and saw her, one foot inside the hut and the other stepped outside.
i sighed out. i knew i’d have to face her sooner or later. i just didn’t think it’d be the day she got here.
“hi, neytiri.” i muttered.
she smiled weakly. she stepped out and pulled the tarp down, walking a bit closer. “i didn’t expect to see you here.”
“i could say the same.” i said as i crossed my arms.
“i know. so this is where you ran off to all those years ago.”
“mhm. thankfully, ronal didn’t threaten me when i arrived.” i said.
“oh.. you heard about that.”
“yes, i did. i also heard that tonowari let your family stay. i didn’t hear for how long though.”
her small smile faded away slightly. “oh.. well the forest isn’t safe for my family. i think we’re staying here for a long time. forever, even.” she winced.
i nodded. i kept my cool, but trust me, i was fuming.
“look, i know what you must think of me after what i did. but i felt really awful for how i treated you, and i still do. the fact that i couldn’t ask for your forgiveness had haunted me these past 14 years.”
“yeah. you hurt me terribly and i just couldn’t stand to be around either of you.” i shrugged.
“i get it.”
i glanced at the open window inside her hut and saw her children inside.
her son was holding her youngest daughter in his lap, both of them smiling and laughing.
“my kids asked about you. they were surprised to see another omaticaya here. of all places.” she said.
the young daughter spotted me and gave me a shy wave. the son said something to her making her look up at him before they both stood and walked away.
“you have a beautiful family.” i smiled.
“thank you.” she muttered.
“i’m sorry i couldn’t give you that.”
she raised her head to look up at me. she was confused and took a step toward me.
“oh, y/n-“
“that’s what you always wanted right? a family. obviously you couldn’t have that being with me.”
“that’s not why i left.” she said loudly. she looked like she said it louder than she should have and glanced at the window of he hit to see if she had caught anyone’s attention.
i just glared at her. i know i didn’t tell my family what happened but the reason she hadn’t told her was because she knew what she did was wrong.
“i didn’t mean to fall in love with him.” she said in a more hushed tone.
“what kind of excuse is that, neytiri?” i laughed out.
“i know how it sounds. i know i lied to you about jake and how i felt about him. and i’m so sorry.” she reached for my hand but i took it away.
“you didn’t just lie. you tried to convince me you two weren’t in love. told me i was crazy and jealous and how you couldn’t possibly love a dreamwalker.”
she sighed out and glanced at the hut.
“what? you don’t want your kids to find out you’re a liar-“ she grew terrified and grabbed my head, one hand holding it in place and the other covering my mouth.
“and a cheater!” i yelled into her palm.
“stopstopstop! please, i’m sorry. please don’t say it so loud.” she hissed.
i glared up at her. she removed her hand and winced.
“i’m really sorry.”
“oh you’re really sorry?”
“are you going to behave this way the entire time i’m here?” she snapped.
i shrugged. she sighed out and looked at her hut. “you’re still the same.”
“what is that supposed to mean?”
“you’re sassy and argumentative.. and getting on my nerves.” she snapped.
i laughed at how irritated she was getting.
“i’m going inside. will i have to see you tomorrow for training?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“no.”
she sighed out.
“you’ll see my wife, though. have fun with that.” i smiled.
i left her there before she could respond to me.
the next day comes and everyone splits off to train with the new family.
tsireya and ao’nung were out by the ilu pen with neytiri’s children, tonowari and a few of his friends were training jake sully.
and ronal was getting ready to go with neytiri.
“are you sure you will be okay by yourself?” she asked me as she looked in a mirror, fixing her headpiece.
“i’ll be okay. i have friends besides you and wari.” i chuckled.
“that’s funny.” she said with a blank stare.
“i’d honestly rather have you help her than me.” she said as she stood up.
“why? we would just bicker and get nothing done. all neytiri likes to do is argue.” i grumbled.
“i know, but it’s awkward for us. your ex girlfriend being trained by her ex’s new wife. it’s just too much.” she groaned. i laughed.
“i know this must be so hard for you.” i dragged on dramatically.
“stay strong for me, my love. you’ll get through this.” i kissed the tip of her nose, making her deadly stare fade into a laugh.
“if you need me, i’ll be on the other side of the island.” i walked past her and left the marui, smiling at the sound of her laughter.
i had to walk past the sully hut to get to where i was going and i just did my hair, so i couldn’t dive in the water to just swim there.
i sighed out and walked past really quickly, trying my best not to look inside.
i turned a corner and a little girl was staring up at me and standing in my path.
“oh!” i muttered. it’s neytiri’s youngest daughter. wow, she looks exactly like neytiri when she was that age.
“hi, little one. are you lost?” i asked.
“oh… no. i’m not.” she answered.
“uhm.. okay.” i nodded. i hesitantly walked past her but her stare never let up. i start walking away when she calls for me. “wait!”
“yes?” i looked back at her.
she starts nervously fidgeting with her hands.
“are you.. omaticaya?” she asks.
i smiled softly. “yes, i am.”
“really?! i knew it! i told my mom but she didn’t believe me!” she exclaimed.
“aw, well.. now you know.” i shrugged.
“i’m tuk! how long have you been here?” she continued.
“uh.. hi, tuk. i’ve been here a long time.”
“wow.. dk you like it here? i like it here a lot, but i miss home. do you miss home?” she spoke super quickly and it made me laugh.
“uhm.. yes i love it here. and i miss home sometimes, but it’s okay.” i told her.
“you’re very pretty.” she smiled.
“aw thank you! so are you, little one.” i said, putting a bright smile on her face.
“tuk? tuk!” her mother called. i grew horrified but quickly changed my face when i remembered her daughter was standing in front of me.
“your mother’s looking for you.” i said.
and just in perfect time, neytiri turned the corner to find her daughter and i. her eyes grew wide before looking down at tuk.
“tuk, come.” she held her hand out.
“okay..” tuk takes her moms hand but looks back at me.
“bye.. uhm, what was your name?” she asks.
“oh..” i glanced up at neytiri who avoided my eye contact like the plague.
“it’s y/n. i’ll see you both around.” i bowed my head slightly before quickly walking away.
“don’t look back, don’t look back, just keep walking,-“ i muttered quickly as i sped up.
-neytiri’s pov-
“tuk, come.” i said to her.
i watched y/n nervously and tried to get tuk away as quickly as i could but i know she can’t help her curiosity.
“okay.. bye, uh.. what was your name?” she asked y/n.
shit.
y/n glanced at me and i tried so hard not to look at her.
she told tuk her name before leaving and we walked back to our marui.
“mama, you should be friends with y/n. you will enjoy having someone like us here.” she said sweetly.
she smiled back at me before jumping back into the marui. i sighed out.
“i think you’re right, tuk.” i smiled at her.
i looked up at the sky before muttering. “i’m sorry for lying to her. i’ll tell her when she’s older.” i prayed.
eywa might strike me with lightning.
꒰ 🥥 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:・゚
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scaredpigeons · 2 years ago
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It’s always the smart ones, isn’t it?
Artist link: https://x.com/rueleaf_art/status/1720131112150695939?s=61&t=mQAX9COmvfjstwJ6klO6CQ
Please give Rue a follow, i just found them on twitter, and this piece is a part of their Huevember series.
WARNING: NSFW 18+ MDNI
Albedo x fem!bimbo!reader fem pronouns and anatomy used.
Word count: 2.9k
CW: albedo is pretty manipulative in this, but reader is willing, so dubious consent warning. Monsterfucking(literally, it’s a hydro slime.) ovipositon, pretty heavy voyuerism, i intended to write reader as a true bimbo, but i kinda lost it so she’s just a little ditzy. Use of an aphrodisiac. Use of leg restraints (inappropriate use of vision.)
Authors Note: listen, this came from the nastiest, most depraved depths of my brain, and its not even that bad. If you don’t like this shit, don’t read it, hands down. If you do like this shit, please let me know if you’d like a continuation, as i left it pretty open ended. This sat half finished in my docs for so long, so if the ending feels rushed, im sorry 🥺
“Right this way, please. Watch your step.”
Albedo led you through the entrance to the cave, a winding tunnel descending deeper into the earth, glowing stone and mushrooms popping up every few steps, illuminating what his lantern couldn’t reach.
“So, what did you say was wrong with the slime again? It’s… copy-lating?” You try to remember what it was that he’d said to convince you to assist him, but you ended up being distracted again by his vibrant blue eyes, and the way his mouth moves when he speaks.
If your crush on the Chief alchemist wasn’t evident to him yet, you’d swear he was more dense than the rocks he so carefully studied. You didn’t exactly hide your admiration, his pretty looks and seemingly limitless intelligence had you hook, line and sinker from the moment you met him.
He’d been kind in the beginning, but had held you at arms length like most others, polite greetings and updates on upcoming projects were the most you could pull from him. It took getting a glittering character review from Lisa and one babysitting trip with Klee—that surprisingly didn’t end in disaster— for Albedo to finally come to see you as a friend.
Now you just wished you could step past that carefully drawn line of friendship into something more.
Albedo sighed, but even with his back to you it sounded as if pushed through a half grin.
“Slimes are baser elemental beings, created from the sedimentation of elements dispersed throughout nature.” He turned slightly to look back at you. “Due to this fact, their intelligence levels are extremely low, resulting in a limited set of desires for their own survival.”
“Right…” you said, touching some of the glowing blue algae on the wall, before noticing the ground becoming more and more damp.
“They congregate around the elemental sources in which they formed within, seeking out other sources when those are no longer sufficient, and defending those sources when necessary.”
“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes with a grin. “That's why when a girls tryna fish, those little shits think that’s the most disrespectful thing I could ever do, and throw themselves at me until I’m either forced to run away, or stab them until they pop.”
“Precisely.” Albedo stepped through a rock cluster that seemed to cut the pathway in half, stepping over the bottom ledge and bending his way under the jagged top. He reached out his hand to offer assistance. You took it, and slid through.
“They have no reasoning, no cognitive ability to differentiate between someone who is harmlessly just passing through, or something that is a threat to their survival. All they know is to feed and attack.”
Albedo kept his hand in yours as he guided you around the corner, stopping to let you stare in awe of your surroundings.
It was a ruin of some sort, at one point it had probably been some kind of place of worship, but now it only housed the rubble that might have been walls, and the massive stone Dias surrounded by glowing water.
The Dias was easily twice the size of your house, a perfect circle carved with intricate swirls and patterns.
“This place is beautiful…” you whispered
Albedo smiled at you, gesturing for you to take a closer look.
You stepped across the stone path to the Dias, smiling at the little fish that swam through the glowing algae. Albedo followed you in your awe until you reached the centre, and looked up at the top of the cavern, grinning at the lights reflecting off the jade and lapis jutting from the rock.
“We will conduct the experiment here.” Albedo dropped his bag down, taking out some strange bottles and his notepad.
“Wait!” You said. “You still haven’t told me exactly what is happening, Albedo. This cavern is beautiful but what does it have to do with slimes?”
Albedo kneeled at his pile of things and began working. “I was exploring a series of caverns networking from Dragonspine to old Mond, when I came across a hydro slime behaving strangely.”
He uncapped his travel beakers, pouring tiny amounts back and forth between them before he seemingly got the right mixture.
“I believe this particular specimen is displaying clear evolutionary characteristics that would completely change the way that slimes are formed, and thus cause unforeseen consequences to the ecosystem not only of Mondstadt, but Teyvat as a whole.”
“Wait, slow down, what?” Your face reddened as Albedo stepped closer, flustered by his proximity and your inability to keep up with his explanation.
“I believe I’ve come across a slime that is evolving. Its actions make me think that if they continue down this evolutionary path, they could become smarter, stronger, and more dangerous.”
You released a tense breath, grateful for his slowed re-iteration. He was so close again, you could feel the gentle warmth he radiated, and see the lights of the cavern reflecting in the pretty blue of his eyes.
“What did it do? That made you stop and think, I mean.”
He paused and gave a soft smile, happy you were still interested in the experiment.
“Well first of all, it did not attack me. In fact, it was rather friendly, and approached me with cautious curiosity.”
“What! Really?” You could practically feel the sparkle in your eyes.
“Of course, would you like to meet it?”
He took your quick nod as intended, reaching into his pocket with his free hand and sprinkling slime bait on the Dias in front of you.
Within a minute, a medium sized hydro slime surfaced from the water, hobbling its way up onto the Dias and to the bait.
“Oh wow!” You whispered, looking between Albedo and the slime. “It’s so calm!”
“Yes, I noticed that too. I’m glad your presence is not alarming to it, that makes the experiment much easier.”
You looked at him in question, but he just handed you the mixed travel beaker.
“Here, this should be ready now.”
“I trust that it's safe,” you laughed. “May I ask what I’m drinking before I do?”
“It is a stimulant created using fire flower stamen essence among other ingredients, meant to warm the internal temperature of your body to create a climate that might be more suitable to the specimens requirements for the experiment.”
You couldn’t help but feel Albedo's eyes raking up and down your body, even though he tried to hide it— and so without hesitation, you drank the beaker in its entirety.
“What, you think it likes warm hugs or something?” You chuckled a bit.
“Something like that. Would you mind sitting down? I know it's damp but it will make interacting with the slime easier for you.”
“Oh not a problem!” You began to feel the effects of the potion take effect as you sat, and immediately the slimes interest was piqued, causing it to bounce in your direction. It was a little intimidating, but you trusted Albedo wholeheartedly, and knew that even if he was wrong about it being docile, he was more than capable of protecting you in case of an emergency.
The warmth in your body pooled outwards from somewhere deep in your belly, pulsing and pulsing until you could feel it in your fingertips.
“Wow…that took effect really…uh, quickly. why am I all… fuzzy?” Your words took longer to come to the forefront of your brain, feeling strange as they rolled off your tongue. A strange buzzing formed between your legs, which immediately embarrassed you.
You reached out to touch the slime, no longer thinking straight. Your fingertips ran across the top of its round body, sliding through the slippery substance it was coated in.
“Oh wow…. S-slimy, hehe.” You giggled, feeling like a child. “‘Bedo? What’s… what do I do?”
Albedo walked closer, leaning over you and causing you to feel incredibly small in his intense gaze.
“You… trust me, right?” Albedo asked.
“Pffft,” you snorted. “Of course I do, silly.”
He seemed to run his tongue over his teeth in thought. “You’d do whatever I ask of you, yes?”
Even through the fog clouding your brain, there was no hesitation in your answer.
“Anything for you, ‘Bedo.” You smiled at him, dizzy with the heat pooling between your legs. “I’ll be a good girl, so good for you.”
He smiled a bit at that, brushing some of his perfect blond hair from his eyes.
“I’ll remember you said that.”
Albedo pulled two chunks of lapis from his coat pocket, and suddenly they flew towards you. You flinched, almost reaching out to protect the slime, until you realized they were moving with the power of Albedo’s vision.
They seemed to melt and mold themselves mid-air, wrapping themselves around your ankles. With a flick of his wrist, Albedo had you thrown to your back, legs high in the air above your head.
You screeched, scrambling to cover yourself with your skirt, but to no avail.
“Now now,” Albedo tutted. “Your cooperation is vital for this stage.”
With cheeks heavy and hot, you lowered your arms back to support your upper half, trying to look at Albedo as he shuffled closer towards you.
“Please, try to relax.” He said, hovering beside you, so incredibly close now that your fingertips buzzed with the desire to reach out and touch him. He flicked a pocket knife from somewhere in his coat, and moved overtop the slime that was in between your legs.
“Hopefully, this shouldn’t take long,” he said, lifting your skirt and eyeing you as you squeaked in alarm but didn’t move to stop him. “And if you stay still, you shouldn’t experience any discomfort. Though from the looks of it, you wont experience any discomfort regardless.”
The way Albedo eyed what you knew to be a sizeable damp patch on your underwear embarrassed you to no end. You were so flustered, he shouldn’t be seeing you like this! Even as he lifted the edge of your panties with a gloved finger and ran his pocket knife through the cotton, exposing you to the cavern, you couldn’t help but chastise yourself for being so uncomfortably wet.
You were probably messing up Albedo’s experiment! You shouldn’t be feeling this way, yet the way he eyed your glistening core sent shivers up your spine.
“A—ah” you stuttered, feeling a single gloved fingertip run through your folds. The pleasure of such a simple touch was overwhelming, and you felt tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as you watched him raise his finger to the light, embarrassed he could see how startlingly wet you were. “I’m sorry B-bedo, I… I don’t know what’s w-wrong with me, I—“
“You’re doing perfectly,” he said, and something in his eyes seemed… hungry. “Everything is as it should be.”
You felt something strange against your behind, wet, slimy movement.
“Look,” Albedo said, looking between your legs. “It seems my potion worked just fine, and the bait made its way to your body’s natural lubricant.”
You stared down between your legs in absent horror as the slime shimmied its way up to your aching core, its front moving and rubbing around at your folds as if it was searching for something.
“B-bait? W-wait—“ you stuttered, moaning as you felt pressure at your entrance. “Albedo!”
But Albedo just watched hungrily as the slime pressed a small portion of itself into your waiting hole, the thick, slimy appendage sliding in with nearly zero resistance thanks to the slick pooling from your core.
Wait, you thought. Did the drink Albedo give me make me this wet?
“Yes.” It took him answering to realize you were mumbling your thoughts out loud. “I gave you a potion that would both enhance your natural lubrication and entice the slime to investigate, to see if my theories were correct.”
The slime moved completely over your core now, its gyrating form moving against your clit as the thick extension of its body began to thrust in and out of you.
Through the thick fog of delirious pleasure, you noticed something glowing within the slimes main body, small, yet bright orbs forming as it essentially fucked the thoughts from your brain.
You were so embarrassed, yet could only lay there and watch as Albedo eyed your exposed hole through the near-clear body of the slime, watching with a dark gaze as your walls pulsed around the appendage.
“Fascinating,” he murmured, only looking away to jot short notes in his notebook.
The glowing grew brighter, and you looked down just in time to watch as a small, egg shaped orb moved from the slimes main body down, down down until you felt it push past the ring of muscle at your entrance.
“It’s depositing the eggs now,” Albedo said almost reverently, watching with rapt attention as the egg was pushed deeper by the thick appendage still thrusting inside.
“‘Bedo…” you moaned, the pressure inside you causing a rushing heat to form, and you felt as if you might orgasm at any moment. The slimes appendage pushed at your walls, pumping another glowing egg past your entrance, and Albedo’s eyes bore into your core as he watched the glowing orb be thrusted deeper inside you.
You realized with a squirm that due to the semi-clear form of the slime, and the glowing nature of the eggs, Albedo was likely watching the entire process and clearly seeing everything happen. The idea that he was watching your insides be filled in such a way was what sent you over the edge, yet this only seemed to make the slime more invested in pumping you full even further.
Albedo looked as though he might drool as you clenched around the appendage, and you blushed even harder at the idea that the alchemist was gaining more than just scientific gratification from this.
You leaned up a bit to gaze at his crotch, and sure enough, a noticeable bulge strained against the fabric, tenting his pants.
The fact that he was enjoying this made your brain melt even further, and you threw your head back, no longer caring to hide your moans.
The slime pumped you full of its eggs, one by one it thrusted the glowing orbs deep into your guts, stretching and pressing sinfully up against your cervix, as if it meant to push them deeper within you.
And the appendage did, it pressed them deeper, and suddenly the pleasure turned to dull pain as it pushed and pushed against your natural resistance.
Albedo must have seen this, and must have seen the panic in your eyes, because his sword suddenly materialized in his hand, and with one swift motion, he cut the slime down while it was still inside you.
You screamed as it burst, coating your lower half in its residue, making you even more sticky and uncomfortable.
But the way Albedo called your name out broke you from your frazzled daze, and you looked up to see his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes still staring hungrily at your sopping entrance.
“Push them out.” He said simply.
“W-what?” You murmured, legs still suspended in the air, brain still heavy with the fog of whatever was in that potion.
“Push them out for me.” He glanced at you, holding your stare just until he saw the command register, and then he watched as your body clenched, and suddenly your hole opened up, pushing a slimy, dimly glowing egg out and onto the ground beneath you.
You groaned at the strange feeling, overwhelmed and yet so enraptured by the way Albedo was staring at you, you never wanted it to end.
“Good.” He said quietly. “So good for me, just like you promised.” He crouched down between your legs, spreading you even further with his fingers to look into your pulsing hole. Your insides clenched at his praise, and you could feel the eggs shifting inside you.
“Keep going, I want to watch them all come out of you.”
So you pushed again, this time, two popped out in rapid succession, and Albedo licked his lips as he murmured soft words of praise, though you could barely hear them over the sound of your own labored breaths and tiny moans.
You pushed again, feeling the remaining eggs shift and rub up against that sweet, sensitive spot inside you once more. You cried out, an egg barely breaching your entrance before your body sucked it back in.
“Come on,” Albedo thumbed gently over your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles with the perfect amount of pressure. “Orgasm if you need to, but keep pushing them out for me, darling.”
You keened, the word darling had barely left his lips before your body crashed over the precipice of orgasm, pulsing outwards in hot bursts from the point of connection between his thumb and your clit.
You managed to push the rest of the eggs out, and as the last one fell from your gaping hole, you heaved in a relieved breath, sweat running down your exposed thighs.
You watched as Albedo turned a couple of the slimy eggs over with the end of his pencil, eyeing them inquisitively before he stood over you once more.
Your eyes were so heavy, the effects of the potion still weighing in your chest and between your legs.
Just as you were about to whimper out your discomfort, Albedo’s boot stomped down on the pile of eggs hard, splattering the condensate all over your lower half. He stomped until they were all destroyed, then gazed upon your disheveled form with eyes that screamed danger, though to you it just looked like desire.
“A-Albedo?” You mumbled, legs shifting uncomfortably in their restraints.
“You’re still under the influence of the potion, yes?” He reached down and flicked his belt from the buckle, popping the button of his slacks with one hand. “Let’s take care of that.”
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jarofstyles · 2 years ago
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FICTOBER DAY 5- Can I Hold Your Hand?
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Here is day 4, a bit of cutie dadrry <3 Enjoy!
FICTOBER Prompt list and Masterlist
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“Can I hold your hand?” The small voice peeped up at him. Their son in his train conductor costume had been insistent that he was too big to hold his father’s hand, he was a big boy now and he could do trick or treating all by himself. 
Y/N pushed the baby carriage, his little sister still a drooly little baby with a plush pumpkin costume on her body and a tiny hat on her head to keep her warm as the october air chilled up. His wife was dressed up in a poodle skirt and letterman jacket, a little tie around her neck and a bouncy ponytail bobbing as she walked. Harry had chosen function this halloween, wearing jeans and a black leather jacket. His saddle shoes were the only thing he purchased for the getup, his hair slicked back in a 50’s like manner- except that one strand that escaped and curled over his head. Y/N had been adamant he not try and fix it, it apparently did something to her. 
“Yeah? Not too big to hold my hand now, mate?” He teased, placing his hand down for the smaller one to take. Their gait was slow, their son not the fastest with his Thomas the Tank Engine soft cut out around his body. It made him a big more clumsy, too, which is why Harry was glad Y/N had put knee guards and gloves on him.
“No. I’m am big, but I don’t like all the noises.” He tried to maintain, but the spooky music filtering through the neighborhood and sound effects of the motion sensor activated decor making the poor thing jump. Hell, one of those things had even made Harry clutch his chest as he had approached the front door to ring for candy. What was with these things getting more and more accessible to the public? He remembered the only time he used to see these things were in haunted houses he went to in uni. Now it seemed everyone on the block had a jumpscare waiting to strike. Stupid screaming skeleton. 
“It’s okay, baby.” Y/N crooned. “Did you know that on one of our first dates, Daddy took me to see a movie and got so scared he screeched?” It was true, but it was justified. Most of the room had jumped or made a noise too- it just so happened that his had been a bit more loud and high pitched than he would have liked. 
Harry looked at her with narrowed eyes, scoffing as his wife grinned like the little shit she was. Really? “Are you ever going to let me live that down? I told you, it was just a bad jump scare. You jumped too.” He looked towards their son, who was giggling simply because Y/N was. “Mumma’s being silly. It’s not a bad thing to scream either, it’s natural.” 
“But you’re so big and old, Daddy. You can’t get scared.” He giggled, his fingers squeezing on to Harry’s as they approached another pathway to go up to the house. It was decked out in cobwebs and had some cool orange and purple lighting, spooky sound effects filtering through hidden speakers in the bushes. The howl of a wolf sounded, having him step closer to Harry’s leg. “You go with me?”
“What’s this, then hm? Make fun of me for being scared and then asking me to go?” He ruffled the conductor hat on his head. “You’re lucky I love you loads and Mumma is afraid of the spiders in those webs or I’d made you go with her.” It was all in jest, Y/N simply shrugging. How was she supposed to know what spiders were fake or real? It would be a perfect place for one to hide and jump into her hair!
“It’s okay to be afraid of things, baby. Your father is just silly. Even sillier than me.” Her hand came up to squish Harry’s chin, letting her lipstick give a big kiss mark on his cheek, the bright red in the perfect shape of her lips. When she pulled back, there were loud giggles as the mark was revealed. Harry didn’t mind, clearly, blushing slightly as he knew exactly what she had done, but to their son it was apparently the funniest thing in the world. Y/N shot him a playful glare before threatening him with the same.  “Go on, then. Or you’re getting a kiss mark from me too. Grab Mumma a chocolate if there is one.”
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myovergrowngarden · 9 months ago
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Recurring Nightmare (a narrative prose poem by Stephanie Rose Hold, originally published by Fifth Wheel Press for their Dreamland Anthology)
I’ve been having the same nightmare every week since I realized I was transgender. I’m somewhere familiar, somewhere I’ve felt joy and safety in the past. A mall, the mountains, or more likely Disneyland. I’m wandering, looking for something. A new set of clothing, my friends, a quiet place to stop and rest. It doesn’t matter what I’m searching for, it’s always something arbitrary. What is significant is that I never find it. I don’t think I was meant to. Instead, I was only meant to want, to wander, to have a motive to be alone and vulnerable. Now that my mind has set the stage, the nightmare can begin. The final players make their way onto the proscenium. A mob of my old friends starts pouring onto the scene. They don’t approach like a band of marauders pillaging and crashing their way through crowds, nor like a dragon streaking through the sky and promising oblivion. I start to notice them slowly out of the corner of my eye. Old friends from my childhood who I fell out with over politics, old acquaintances from church who I began to bond with before I fell from grace. People who would only recognize me by a name I no longer speak.
The only thing worse than seeing them again is seeing the spark of something in their eyes. A flash of recognition, the familiarity of a feature or a habit through which they notice me. I quickly move away, averting my gaze and trying to fix my hair in case it looks too much like it used to. Of course I am followed. It would be naive to expect that I could get away so easily. They continue to pursue me no matter how many crowds I weave between, how many narrow pathways I duck through. They’re relentless in their pursuit, unafraid of any consequence so long as they can lock eyes with me and confirm their theories. I hear their voices calling a name. A name that should be mine in their understanding. I don’t respond, that isn’t me, that never was me. I keep moving, hoping that eventually they’ll stop searching for someone who only existed in their eyes. They don’t. I never reach freedom, it’s just hours of the chase until I run out of places to hide. Eventually, moments before I jolt awake, they catch me. Either they dart in front of me, force me to make eye contact, or I am pulled back as I feel their hands tighten on my shoulder. One way or another, night after night, I am forced to look them in the eyes and let them make their judgements.
They’re the same. No matter how much I’ve changed, no matter how differently I dress or carry myself, they’re unchanged. Maybe they’re taller, stronger, louder, but they’re the same. Their souls are perpetually immature even as their bodies grow to intimidating proportions. For as much as I want to criticize them for that, or sneer up at them with superiority knowing that I found a way to grow and see the world without the tinted glasses they’ve welded to their faces, I can’t. I can’t feel any confidence, or pride, or safety, because for as much as I think I’ve changed they recognized me. It doesn’t matter that I’ve become my own woman. It doesn’t matter that I’ve found my sense of style, my voice, my community. It doesn’t matter that I’m kinder, smarter, better than I was before. How could any of that matter, how could any of that be real if they recognized me so easily? In an instant I’m no longer a confident, grown woman who loves her life. I’m a fifteen year old boy who hates himself, the world, and everyone he knows, and he doesn’t know why. I’m a pathetic, immature shell built up to protect a girl who wasn’t ready to see the world, except this time there’s no one inside. It was all a lie, I’m a lie, I’m… asleep.
I wake up. I always do. It doesn’t take me long to adjust, to remember that I live in a new city in a new room decorated just how I like it. How I really like it. I curse myself knowing I’ve failed to conquer the fear of running into them again, as if they’d be able to drag me back to an ancient way of thinking with so much as a look of disapproval. Even if I am back in the real world, that nightmare walks with me every day. I avoid the places we used to hang out, I’m cautious where I make my identity known, and who I’m with when I do it. I look over my shoulder and stick close to the ones I trust every time I dare to leave the house in my favorite dress. The day that I see them again, the day that these fears are validated hasn’t come. If I’ve crossed paths with them, they didn’t recognize me and I didn’t recognize them. I hear stories about them, I know they haven’t changed much. With enough time and distance from my dreams I allow myself to believe that I have. I am a better and happier person than I was growing up, I’m a woman fully realized with room to grow and shift. For a few days, I’m myself. Until I have the nightmare again, and like so many things in my life, the performance starts again from the first line.
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dragonmasterhiccup · 9 months ago
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“A month? I don’t, I don’t want to be gone that long, my uh, my dad will worry, and then if he can’t find me he might get mad…” She turned her gaze towards the dirt pathway as she spoke, shuffling one of her feet. It was very easy to spot she was lying. It was her siblings that would worry, not her dad.
But… this guy was still being pretty nice, and even though she just met him— she really shouldn’t be trusting him so easily— he was showing no signs of being even a little bit mean. Thors sake, he was holding her hand, and it wasn’t like how other people did it, where they would yank and pull, and make her wrist red, he was being weirdly gentle, and she could definitely let go if she wanted to.
She did kind of want to stay… A month wasn’t that long right?
“A-actually, you can choose, if you want me here or not… either works,” she said, shrugging, before letting out another fit of coughs.
She shook her head, sniffling once again. “No, no satchel, they’d take it, and probably get me in trouble..” She looked up at him, confusion etched across her features. “I already have something to wear, though, I don’t need new stuff, not until I grow out of these. ‘Sides, making clothes takes a lot ‘f time and tools n’ stuff, you only do it if you absolutely have to.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And m’ probably gonna get searched when I get home, they always do that…” Now that she thought about that, she didn’t have much hope that it would be possible to even sneak in something small, the hunters would find it and throw it out…
“Oh, so she’s like really little.” Every word he said just made her more bewildered. “Gifts? That’s silly, like your name, your name is silly, but no, that’s not what they say about kids where I’m from.” Thinking that she might have hurt his feelings about her previous comment on his name, she added, “Sorry, your name isn’t that bad, some people say that Danny is a silly name, they say it’s a boys name, so don’t worry,” she said, seemingly trying to reassure him.
She let go of his hand as he knelt down, and she shook her head at his explanation. “That’s not true! All dragons are bad, all they do is hurt people, and kill them. Dad doesn’t even have his arm anymore! Because of dragons! And, and they breathe fire, and scratch people and eat them!”
A stray tear fell from her eye, and she quickly wiped it away. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything, e-except for be friends with the monsters, but you, you’re still nice..” She just hoped he wouldn’t let the dragons hurt her.
She took his hand again, continuing to walk with him, though this time she had her head leaned against his arm as they walked. She was clearly still quick to trust, almost stupidly so, but it was probably just the childlike naivety shining through. After all, she was only seven as of now, having someone new be nice to her was most likely a huge relief.
“If you say so…” she said, continuing to take in her surroundings.
Her eyes locked onto the empty bowl, shoulders tense and breath hitching in her throat. He caught her lying, and he sounded.. what? Disappointed? Mad? She didn’t know, but concern did not register as what it could possibly be. This was it, she blew it, and he was going to either hurt her, kick her out, or both.
Taking her bowl, filling it up with another helping and setting it back down in front of her did not register as one of the possibilities.
She looked up at him, clearly shocked. “W-what…?”
The cloth being pressed to her face to dry her tears was even more confusing; why wasn’t he mad at her? Why was he still being gentle and nice? Hands were supposed to hurt, so why weren’t his?
“Oh, okay..”
This time, she only ate a few hesitant spoonfuls, before her eyes once again wandered to the rest of his hut.
Sliding off of the chair, she quietly explored the living space.
She first went by the huge wall of books, eyes wide with awe; she’d never seen this many books, this much knowledge, just at someone’s fingertips, right within reach for whenever wanted.
Next, she went by the fire, which to her was pretty weird; fires were usually huge, uncontrollable, angry, this one wasn't though; it just sat and danced in front of her, providing nothing but warmth, not painful warmth either, that stung and burned, just a comforting warmth, like a blanket or something.
Her last stop ended up being by the wooden couch, looking at the furs draped over it…
She knew not to touch other people’s stuff, but… he wouldn’t find out, right?
Reaching out, she ran her hands over the soft furs, a wide smile on her face.
This guy was so lucky! He just got to have this kind of stuff! Whenever he wanted he could just sit and bask in the nicest furs she’d ever felt before in her life!
When he came back into the room, Danny jumped in surprise and quickly sat down on the floor in front of the couch, back pressed against it.
“Sorry…” she muttered.
Eyeing the medical supplies, she asked, “What does that all do? Don’t you just need water to clean it? All of that seems like extra…”
But, after a bit of convincing, she nodded. “Um, okay, I’m ready, s’ not gonna hurt bad, right?”
"Well, that's what the note said, but it would be a month at most, so we'll take it day by day, and keep an ear out for news of any new ships docking." He felt like he was lying to her, and in a way, he might've been. But... She was so small. She didn't deserve to go back to the hunters, and Hiccup resolved to keep her safe as long as he could.
He wanted to say he'd love to have her here, that he'd much prefer she be here than there...but for now, he gave a small nod and replied, "You're welcome to stay as long as you need to, Danny."
When she said his name was silly, he laughed lightheartedly, remembering Danny's reaction to his middle name. "Well, believe it or not, it's true."
Shaking his head, he couldn't hold back more laughter. "No, you're right, my name is a bit silly...not as silly as my middle name, though. But your name? It's strong, nothing to be ashamed of. Danny is short for Danielle, right? Let's see...I don't know the exact meaning, but I do know your name stands for intellect, and if anyone tells you your name is silly, they certainly lack in intellect."
Shaking his head once more, he spoke with emotion. "The only reason I am still around today, is because of a dragon. He saved my life countless times, and he's my best friend. But," he paused, taking a breath. "I can see that this is a lot for you right now, so why don't we revisit this another time?"
"I'm sorry because I know how it feels, to lose someone you love to a dragon, and I...I know how painful it is."
Hiccup felt as she leaned her head on his arm, and he took comfort in that, knowing she was starting to trust him more. He needed to get her something to eat, maybe make her some tea to help with her cough, and make up a comfortable place for her to rest and sleep while she stayed with him and Astrid.
"We're almost there," he said, "it's just a little farther."
Seeing her confusion, he gestured to the bowl. "Don't be afraid to ask for more here if you're still hungry. I'm not going to hold any food back from you."
Hiccup saw her enjoying the soft furs for just a moment before she realized he was there. "It's alright. They are soft, aren't they?"
Just water? "Water isn't going to do much, no," he gestured to each item as he described its function. "uh, this will help clean it so it doesn't get worse, this will help it heal faster, and this will cover it so it doesn't get irritated any further."
Picking up a clean cloth and dousing it in the cleaning solution, he asked to hold her arm so he could keep it steady while he worked. "Uh, this first part might sting a little, but it's just cleaning it. I'll make sure to work quickly and carefully, so it will be over soon, alright? It won't be bad. The salve will actually numb any pain or irritation you might have in those spots, I think you'll be feeling much better by the time we wrap these bandages on you..."
True to his word, he worked quickly and carefully, only stopping when asked, and waiting for permission before continuing on.
The salve was faster, as it only needed to be applied, and he wrapped the bandage around each one as he went, to avoid any further irritation.
"That should do it for now. We'll change the bandages once more before you go to sleep tonight, and check on them in the morning. I want to make sure nothing festers..."
As he put the supplies away, he could hear the door open.
"Hiccup! Zeph and I are back!"
Hiccup grinned, excited to see his wife and daughter, but quickly turned to Danny. "Why don't you rest on the couch for a bit? I'll make you something to help with that cough of yours. I'll be back soon."
He made his way to the kitchen, and Zephyr was reaching for him as soon as she saw him.
As he quietly explained the situation to Astrid, he put a kettle of water over the fire, gathering the herbs needed to help Danny feel better.
Astrid shook her head. "I don't understand, how is this possible? She's seven now?"
"I don't know, but it's only for a month at most. Astrid... she's been through so much already, and shouldn't she have something good from her childhood to look back on?"
"Will she remember any of this?"
"Does that matter? Either way, there's a little girl who has been mistreated. She's never experienced kindness before. I-I'm not going to just... hand her back over, she deserves to know that--that she deserves better."
"Hiccup, you know I agree, but wouldn't that make going back that much harder?"
He let out a sad sigh. "...I don't know. I just...I just want her to be happy, to feel safe."
Astrid placed a hand on Hiccup's cheek. "Then that's what we'll do."
A few minutes later, Danny's tea was ready, and Zephyr was in Astrid's arms once more as Hiccup brought the tea to the young girl.
"Here, this will help you cough less, and clear your nose up some. My dad would make me this when I was your age, feeling just like you are now."
Sitting in the chair across from her, he said, "Is it okay if I introduce you to Astrid and Zephyr?"
She seemed nervous when they were walking over, and he didn't want to overwhelm her with too many people at once.
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justjessame · 1 year ago
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Light Through the Darkness: Chapter 44
Damon was silent as Stefan went with him to see Bonnie. He hated to admit it, but having his baby brother along might actually be helpful since the Bennet witch didn’t exactly like him. He couldn’t actually blame her for not trusting him, her grandmother died because of him, tangentially. Not that she liked Stefan much more. Maybe they should have brought Elena along to smooth the way, but since she was in bed with the devil, so to speak, he doubted that pathway forward would help either.
How would he explain it to Bonnie, and then how the hell could she even begin to fix it? He had no clue how the overwhelming urge to keep her safe even happened. And why the hell wasn’t he hit the hardest by it?
When they finally pulled up outside the Bennet house, Stefan turned to him and waited for an explanation. Sighing, he gave him the upshot of what he felt certain of, but unsure of how to fix. “Do you remember how focused on Abigail you were when you transitioned?” Stefan’s eyes slitted at the memory and a tilt of his head told Damon to go on. “How about the way you could break Katherine’s compulsion when it came to Abigail? Do you remember finding her after Katherine’s first attempt, even after she told you to stay with her?” It had hurt him at the time, Katherine’s insistence that Stefan stay with her, but he’d blinked past it and left her, alone with him and for that he’d pushed away his annoyance and congratulated his good luck. A small nod meant that Stefan recalled what Damon mentioned, if vaguely. “Ric is having the same urge to protect Abi, Stefan, the same urge to risk my ire that you had even if I can’t compel his ass. That tells me there’s something more going on than just Abi’s sparkling personality and beauty. Something magical, maybe?” He gestured at the Bennet house, where he hoped the witch was in residence. “Hopefully Bonnie will be willing to listen, and help.”
While Damon and Stefan worked up the courage and a way to explain why they were coming to Bonnie for help, Abigail was still napping in her hotel room. What overtook her as she rested wasn’t a normal dream, because of course it wouldn’t be.
She was back in the room that she’d woken up in, the curtains swaying gently in a breeze that came from nowhere, since she knew the windows were closed. Sitting on the bed, waiting, for what she wasn’t sure.
“You look much better,” a deep voice offered from the doorway. Turning she was met with a face that was only slightly familiar. “You don’t remember me? It was a long time ago that we first met, in the garden-” And the memory of this strange man came back to her in sharp relief.
She’d been in the garden after her parents had died. Only a week or so after her terrible loss, she’d sought peace away from Lily’s concern and Damon’s need to make sure she was alright. Abigail had been seated on the same bench that one day in the near future Katherine would kill her when a stranger approached. Dressed as well as anyone of her status, he was tall, dark and unbearably handsome. He asked to sit, and she assumed he was one of Mr. Salvatore’s associates so she agreed, moving slightly to give him room past her dress skirt. He’d sat with her and spoke about loss, family, and grief. As though he knew her, and it brought her such peace. Before he’d left, he kissed her knuckles and told her he hoped they’d meet again.
“You never told me your name,” she realized, smiling up at him, seeing that he was garbed as she was, in the current style of the time she woke up in.
“That I didn’t.” He gestured to the space on the bed beside her and she nodded her assent. Once seated, he studied her face. “You’ve grown up,” his hand rose as though of its own accord, but he stopped himself before he could touch her face. “I apologize.”
Abigail reached out and touched the still hovering hand, and closed the gap between the fingertips and her skin, letting him know that he was free to touch her face. “I don’t mind.” She closed her eyes as he traced the subtle changes, the sharpness that replaced the softness of youth, the way her lips had become more plush with age. Her eyes opened when his hand left her skin.
“Soon.” The man, dark hair and eyes promised, and then he was gone like a whisper.
Bonnie was looking at Damon like he’d lost his mind, which he was starting to feel like he had. She wouldn’t invite them inside, which made sense, but agreed to speak to them on the porch. As Damon told her about Abigail Morgan, and his suspicions, he watched a flicker cross her face before her expression returned to irritated indifference.
“And what precisely do you want from me?” Her question was sharp and probing. A witch still coming into her power.
Stefan answered for him. “We don’t know, Bonnie, but I can tell you this. What I felt when I transitioned about Abi was stronger than any type of obsession I have ever felt. The urge to be with her, near her, was almost as strong as the call of human blood. And that’s incredibly disturbing considering-”
“Your past?” She offered. Sighing she leaned against the doorframe. “And you say that Ric is showing the same protectiveness?” Damon nodded. “I think you’re fine as long as no one turns Ric into a vampire.” She started to go back inside, but Damon’s voice stopped her.
“You flinched.” Bonnie swallowed and waited. “When I told you about Abigail, you flinched, why?”
“I remembered that story about the real life sleeping beauty,” she was trying to be flippant, but Damon and from the way Stefan stiffened so did his brother, knew it was forced. “Not everyday that a local legend is confirmed, right?” “Bullshit,” Damon replied. “Don’t forget that I can HEAR your pulse quickening, Bonnie Bennet. What made you flinch, honestly?”
Bonnie’s back went ramrod straight and she looked Damon dead in the eye from the safety of her house. “And don’t you forget, Damon Salvatore, that I’m Emily’s descendent and I can and will make you hurt.”
“Bonnie,” Stefan’s voice came out pleading, and Damon was thankful for his brother’s ability to whine. “Please.”
Bonnie’s eyes never left Damon’s as she answered. “After Caroline brought up the legend of Morgan House, I talked to Grams, she told me to stay away from the house, that whatever or WHOMEVER was inside was meant to stay in safety until the time was right. When she died,” her eyes pinched at the memory, but she went on. “I started looking through the family histories that she kept. Emily was burned, but her book was kept safe. She mentioned Abigail, and how she wasn’t sure WHAT she was, only that her power was great and that the protection of her was paramount.” She sighed. “I don’t know what that means, or how to figure it out, and that’s the truth. Honestly.” And with that, she closed the door and left the brothers standing in stunned silence.
“What the literal-” Damon shook his head and looked at Stefan. “What are we supposed to do with that?”
Stefan’s head shake mirrored his older brother. “No clue, but let’s talk about it at the house.” More questions than answers, the Salvatore brothers returned to their home, wondering how the hell they would figure out the mystery that was Abigail Morgan.
Abigail’s dreams didn’t stop with the return of her mysterious visitor, instead they morphed to her childhood home, before her parents died. She was in her room, touching the things she’d long forgot about. Her bedspread, had it really been pale blue? The line of dolls on her windowsill looked forlorn, but that wasn’t a surprise, books had always been her preference. The shelves of books, not as high or as filled as their library, but holding her favorites. Her fingertips traced their spins, wishing that she could tote them all back to the reality she left behind.
“There you are,” she swallowed as the voice she hadn’t heard, not even in the shadow people garden that she fought through to come back, pierced her heart. “I was wondering when you’d find me.”
Abi turned and drunk in the vision her mother presented. A taller, but not by much, version of herself. Posture perfect, hair arranged carefully, and her dress immaculate. “Mother,” her voice was so quiet she wondered if this mirage could hear her.
“Abigail,” her mother walked forward and took her hand. “You look just like me,” she sounded satisfied by that knowledge. “Tinier, perhaps, but your face-” unlike the gentleman who came before, her mother showed no hesitance at touching her face. Like him, she traced the changes that came after she’d died. “You’re beautiful.”
Abigail’s smile was small, since the compliment seemed more for her mother than herself. “I never got to say goodbye.” Seemed more appropriate an answer.
A rueful smile graced her mother’s face, far from ruining the beauty it simply gave her a new angle of attractiveness. “Yes, about that. Your father, his family were a dangerous lot.” Family? “A knife hung over us our entire life, Abigail, threatening to slice us apart. It was simply a matter of when.” She sighed, her hand squeezing Abi’s. “I wish we’d had more time to prepare you.”
“For your deaths?” Abi sounded incredulous. As though warning would have helped. “Is there such a thing?”
Her mother’s smile tightened, still not comfortable with being questioned about her actions. “Perhaps, perhaps not.” She took a more disconcerting look at Abi’s attire. “What is this that you’re wearing? I can see your knees.”
“Yes, well, this is what’s deemed appropriate in 2010, Mother.” Abigail refused to bend to a dead woman’s ire. “I was scandalized myself when Damon brought me the first dress.” Her mother’s eyes lit up at the mention of Damon’s name. “Not that he matters much, since-”
“Of course he matters,” her mother’s interruption startled her. “Damon Salvatore was the entire point of naming Lily and Giuseppe your guardians, Abigail.” She pulled her hand from Abi’s and started pacing. “Haven’t you read the book? Did you read the letter?” Abigail started to speak, but once again her mother kept speaking. “It’s all there, everything, who you are, what you are, and most importantly why he’s important.” When her mother’s eyes met hers again they were blazing and Abigail felt shocked by the seriousness she saw. “You must learn, and then you must study, and you have to know him. Fully, Abigail.” And then she was gone, like the man before, but this time the abruptness woke Abigail.
Gasping awake, she looked around at a rapidly darkening hotel room. What the hell? She felt like she’d run miles without water, so once she had a drink, she sat down and tried to focus on what her mother had said. The book and letter were more important than she’d taken stock of, clearly, but Damon? Why the hell was he so important?
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xaracosmia · 2 years ago
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ꕥ — WELCOME TO EXO COSMIA, JESSE FADEN. 🌑
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ꕥ  — OOC INFORMATION;
name / alias: jan age: 26 pronouns: he/him ooc contact: bloomood @ tumblr other characters in xc: none for now
ꕥ  — IC INFORMATION;
name: jesse faden age: 28 pronouns: she/her series: control canon point: Post AWE & Foundation DLC app triggers: paranoia, gaslighting, stalking, uncanny valley (akin to media revolving around The Backrooms or unexplainable phenomena)
personality: 
This is off the record, right? Director Faden’s an amazing boss and all but I don’t want to be quoted or anything… Okay, good. 
Jesse Faden had a rough childhood. She was on her own for awhile, just a voice in her head to keep her company. Growing up, I know she felt lost and the world didn’t treat her too kindly either. Her words were often waved off, her cries for help and her desire to belong or just to find someone to listen was almost never heard. She harbored some resentment towards the world for that, but it’s not something she let consume her. 
Jesse is still very empathetic. She’s helped agents she’d only just met all around the FBC in dire straits, saved countless lives. Because she knows she has power, strength, and if she’s got it she might as well use it. She’s adaptable and takes things in stride, no matter how absolutely insane those things might be. Sometimes she can get really intense, like really intense. She’s not afraid to let people know how she feels and sometimes that comes with a sting. 
And.. between you and me, sometimes I think she’s still got those more buried habits from when she was a kid. She’s scared of being alone again, no matter how strong she might get. Scared of losing that voice in her head.
But, hey, you didn’t hear any of that from me.
something your muse struggles with: obsessing over her goals, abandonment. 
your muse’s greatest strength: adaptability. 
history / background: 
You want Director Jesse Faden’s file? Right, and I want to have dinner with Beyonce. 
What the hell is that? Full Clearance? Are you serious?
Okay… Fine. Far as I can tell that card is legitimate. Where to even begin…
Well, seeing that you’ve got a visitor’s badge AND have full clearance, I guess it’d be good to just go over some basic terms to make this whole thing a lot easier. 
OoP. That’s an Object of Power. These are items that are connected to another plane of existence called the Astral Plane. How that happens? That’s above my pay-grade, but the important part is that OoP’s can be bound to FBC (Federal Bureau of Control) agents, giving them some badass powers. Director Jesse Faden’s got a ton of them. 
AI. Altered Item. Altered items are acted on by paranatural forces during AwE’s that give them some strange and oftentimes dangerous properties. Think of a refrigerator that needs constant eye-contact from somebody, or else it starts destroying its surroundings. These things can’t be bound to agents and are just contained in the FBC containment sector.
Lastly, AwE. Altered World Event. These are breaches of reality by paranatural forces that are sometimes the cause of, or can create altered items. Think of a sinkhole so rapid and drastic that it starts pulling everything around it in straight to the Earth’s core, magma and everything. The FBC goes in, covers it all up, and returns to contain any possible altered items from the scene.
Got all that? Now, Jesse Faden. 
When Jesse was eleven, she and her brother Dylan had come into possession of an OOP. It was a Slide Projector, capable of opening pathways into other dimensions through the use of the slides that they found. They played in those dimensions, and eventually came into contact with two entities. One of these entities, which Jesse named Polaris later, communicated with them both telepathically and would become a constant in their lives, in their minds. It wasn’t all fun times though. The Faden’s had another childhood friend who was beaten up by a gang of bullies, and then interrogated to find out more about this “toy”. Those bullies stole the projector and that’s when it all started going to hell.
The gang of bullies found another slide and began getting corrupted by another entity. It turned them absolutely nuts, apparently, they even killed a teacher in their school. That’s when the police took the kids away, and Jesse and Dylan were questioned about the projector. Apparently, Jesse and Dylan’s parents were especially hard on the two kids with their questioning, and Director Faden recalled wishing they were gone. The next day, every adult in Ordinary was missing. We’re unsure if there’s a link between her and that event, but that’s what got the attention of the FBC. 
That gang of bullies? They were fully corrupted by that entity, the “Not-Mother” was the recorded name. Jesse and Dylan managed to get to the projector, but she couldn’t turn it off herself, only with help from Polaris did she manage, and she burned all the slides except for the one that Polaris was from. 
The FBC came in, covered it all up. Said it was an “Industrial Incident”. They took Dylan with them, Jesse managed to get away. 
From then on, Dylan Faden served as the “Control” Subject for the FBC’s prime candidate program. The program which would install future Director’s of the entire Bureau. Jesse on the other hand lived with a constant set of eyes on her. She was paranoid, gaslit at every turn by therapists and the news and everyone just denying everything that she grew up with. No one would believe her, it was all so outlandish, how could they even? Jesse worked odd jobs, mostly custodial, keeping to herself and living in and out of motels as she grew up and continued her search for something that the world claimed didn’t exist, in the search for her brother. At least Polaris was there for her. 
At twenty-eight, Polaris finally led Jesse to the FBC. Now the building we’re in, The Oldest House, it’s an OOP itself. It hides itself in plain sight, only revealing itself when it wants or needs to. The building’s constantly shifting, which makes it a constant work hazard mind you. But Jesse finally managed to find the place, and she quickly came to finally realize she wasn’t crazy, and all this dimensional, paranatural shit, was real. 
Jesse found the former Director of the FBC, Director Zacariah Trench, dead in his office. His OOP, the Service Weapon, a pistol to keep it simple, was there. Jesse picked it up and went through the bonding process unknowingly. Now if you pick up that thing, and the Service Weapon doesn’t deem you as a worthy candidate for the next director, you just die. It’s Russian Roulette, and that gun will kill you. Jesse survived the first trial, and on day one was granted the position of Director. The candidate process, the Director, it was all overseen by an entity called The Board. Astral Plane again, but the Board is the one that’s tied right to the Director.
And boy was it trial by fire. The Oldest House was invaded by a hostile resonance, some sort of corrupting power she called The Hiss which turned agents into mindless slaves to the extra-dimensional entity. The whole building was on lockdown until the Hiss was dealt with. Some agents survived thanks to a technology called an HRA, that was passed out by the head of Research for the FBC, Casper Darling, a bit before the breakout. 
Jesse worked with the survivors of the outbreak to try and bring order to the FBC, all in the hopes that she could find her brother Dylan. Through cleaning up the mess inside the lockdown, Jesse came to learn about all the surveillance she was under her whole life, all the cover-ups, and she learned that after that event in Ordinary with the Slide-projector AWE, she and Dylan were put into the Prime Candidate program. Dylan was PC6, Jesse was PC7. In captivity and under the Bureau’s tests, Dylan eventually went crazy. He was corrupted by the Hiss too, broke out of containment, but he wasn’t mindless like all the other agents. He told Jesse that the Hiss entered the Bureau through the Slide Projector that the Bureau kept. 
Jesse then began the search for the projector, along with Polaris’s guidance, maybe they could help her brother somehow. She learned that the former Director Trench, and Dr. Darling, used the projector to make more excursions into the other dimensions. Darling found that entity linked to Polaris, which he named Hedron, and brought it back with him. It’s Hedron’s resonance that Darling used to create the HRA’s, which protects the agents from the Hiss influence. Director Trench on the other hand, Jesse later came to learn was actually corrupted by the Hiss. Subtly, slowly, making him paranoid. He was actually the one who let the Hiss in initially, convinced that everyone else in the Bureau was against him thanks to the Hiss’s influence. 
At the same time of this realization, Dylan broke out of his containment again and stole the Slide Projector. He tried using it to enter the Astral Plane and corrupt The Board. Jesse almost gave into the Hiss entirely, but she pulled back control of her own mind along with Polaris and freed herself of that corruption. She stopped Dylan, cleansed the Slide Projector, and Dylan fell into a coma. 
Jesse shut off the Slide Projector and cut off the Hiss from entering the Dimension. Though some threats still linger within. 
And that’s our fearless Director Faden. She’s working still, getting rid of the Hiss and trying to bring her brother back. 
Hey, you’re the one who wanted the whole file.
powers / abilities: 
Director Faden’s the strongest Parautilitarian we’ve seen. Which is just a fancy word for people who can do things not “normal” in our reality. 
Launch: Through binding herself with OOPs, Jesse Faden’s been able to harness insane telekinetic powers. She can grab and launch multiple things. We’re talking boulders and stone straight from the ground or walls. Even people. The speed she can throw them is lethal with every bit of the word. That telekinetic power lets her also surround herself in whatever loose debris is around to form a shield. Defense is just as important, right?
Evade: Now this one’s cool. She can use it with her other abilities, but even just on its own it’s crazy. Jesse can propel herself in pretty much any direction in a short burst of speed, flinging herself to evade whatever might be coming her way. Like a slingshot almost. 
Kinetic Blast: Nothing flashy, but packs a hell of a punch. Jesse can release a close-range, kinetic explosion that pushes things away. If they survive the blast. 
Seize: This one’s a bit freaky. I’ve seen Director Faden hold a hand out, and channel her power right into her enemy’s minds. She can control them for a time, make them fight against their own kin and on her side. [[ OOC: Would only do this with consent or in circumstances where there’s no sort of meta-gaming going on!]]
Levitate: I know what you’re thinking. And yeah, it’s that. Director Faden can fly. Not Super-man levels, but she can go up pretty high, over a story or two, and hover there for a good while. If she jumps off a high point, I’ve seen her slow her fall as well. Come right down from the top of the Black Rock Quarry as light as a feather. 
inherent abilities: 
Polaris: This one’s a bit tricky to explain. Back when Jesse and her brother were messing with the slide projector as kids, they opened a pathway into another dimension. In that dimension were two linked entities, Hedron (Named by Casper Darling later on), and Polaris. Polaris is an extra-dimensional visitor! Just one that lives in Jesse’s brain. Jesse named this entity Polaris since she saw her as a guiding star. Since she was eleven, Polaris has been a comfort in Jesse’s mind ever since, oftentimes serving as her only friend and a companion she has constant conversations with. As far as we know, Polaris is the source of Jesse and Dylan’s parautilitarian powers.
Gun training: Whether it came from earlier in her life, or she just was a natural, Director Faden is a truly exceptional shot. And I’m not saying that just because she’s the big boss either. The Service Weapon comes with many variations, ranging from semi-automatic, handgun style shots to explosive propelled missiles. Jesse has proven she can hit her target while flying, dashing, or in any number of difficult positions while always keeping on the move in a fire fight. She’s like a wrecking ball that can fly, twist, and dive through the air. A wrecking ball with a gun.
items / weapons: 
Service Weapon: The Director’s Gun. Owning this thing makes you the Director of the FBC, as ordained by The Board which is tied to this thing. It’s an absolute beast of a weapon, taking the shape of a handgun most of the time, composed of other-wordly material. Cubes that let it shift into different configurations and manifest different projectiles, reloads over time or if Jesse is especially trigger-happy, it goes on a cooldown before it can fire again. 
Fun bit of a trivia, a lot of agents hypothesize that this thing took the shape of legendary weapons of old back in the day. Talking Excalibur, Mjolnr, whatever the worthy wielder deemed it to be. Imagine that, huh? 
The Service Weapon can be swapped out for its firing configurations on the fly. It’s got:
Grip: Similar to a revolver, semi-automatic.  Shatter: Wide-spread, buckshot style shotgun configuration.  Spin: The barrel revolves, almost like a minigun. Harder to control accuracy wise but it’s fully automatic. Pierce: A slow-firing, charge-up style that fires a single shot that is capable of piercing through architecture and enemies. All about user accuracy here.  Charge: Closest thing that can describe this is up to three, rocket-propelled grenades.  Surge: This one’s trickier. Fires grenades that stick to surfaces or enemies, and can be detonated at Jesse’s discretion.
Ahti's Walkman: An old school portable cassette player with matching wired yellow headphones. The cassette has some Finnish songs on it and one track by the Old Gods of Asgard, called Take Control
starting ability: Launch.
starting item: Service Weapon. 
extra: 
Might just be the most comfortable a character ever could be once she gets dropped into Xara Cosmia. Walked down a door in the Oldest House, blacked out, woke up here. 
She’s like a jedi with a gun. Seriously, her powers are so cool. 
A true glass-cannon of a set of abilities and skills. 
Also I love her, hope you guys do too.
I tried something new with this application style with the voice and how it’s written, just imagine you had some guy in a suit with a clipboard in a very generic looking office telling you all this information. We’ll call him Agent Bill.
And I swear one day I’ll submit an application that isn’t this long, I should be arrested for my crimes.
discord id: primecandidate7
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cxlamarisalxmi · 2 years ago
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Some Sunny Day
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[Platonic Drabble]
c/w: angst, depictions of trauma and injury, character death, no gendered terms used to describe reader
a/n: I couldn’t help it, the part two of the Spider-Venom reader is in the works and is being written and edited consistently and progressively, but this was inspired by me feeling in the shits about my trauma so.. here we are lol
[Unedited]
We’ll meet again
You hadn’t given much thought to how you would die, not ever really considering the thousands of possibilities that would result in the loss of your life. Never really finding the consideration of those pathways important enough to think about long enough.
Don’t know where, don’t know when
Perhaps you should have— maybe this wouldn’t be happening otherwise. That’s a lie, because death is inevitable.. it was coming for you one way or another. Perhaps it wasn’t you trying to trick yourself into believing you could avoid it— but prepare yourself for it instead. Had you considered all possibilities of death then maybe you could’ve prepared yourself for the painful one you had come to face.
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day
It did not announce itself, did not trumpet it’s arrival. It had been silent, quiet in the darkness as it coiled itself around your throat pulling you off your feet. By the time you had seen it coming.. it had already set it’s teeth.
Keep smiling through
You didn’t wish for anyone to be sad for you, it was a good life you had lived. Sure, it didn’t start out too great but it had been decent.. and then it had turned for the better when you had found them.
Just like you always do
You didn’t want anyone to force their lives to a screeching halt for your sake, that wasn’t fair.. and you knew that regardless of what you had thought— they would celebrate your life everyday from here on out. Now settled in the acceptance of grief, the stage that had come after a long and painful endurance through denial, anger, bargaining and depression.
‘Till the blue sky drives the dark clouds far away
They had felt such a dark and heavy cloud hanging over them since your death, and they had grown accustomed to it. Not bothering to address the way all of them were feeling about losing you. Suppress it down and ignore the searing ache in their chests —they believe— being the best way to overcome it and grow forward.
But you knew that was utter bullshit and you had wished they knew that too. Ignoring it will only make it worse, because ignorance allows the pain to linger. And if it lingers long enough it will fester and grow into a raging inferno that will swallow them whole.
Only in acceptance could they move forward, only in accepting that you were gone could they move on. Grow past it and become stronger together. And you believed they could, they just had to let themselves do it in their own time— at their own pace.
And eventually, that dense and weighted cloud overhanging them would be driven away.
So will you please say hello
You were Miguel O’hara’s eldest. And you had been with him through everything, after the loss of your younger sister the two of you couldn’t overcome the grief that had overwhelmed you both. And in the wake of that dimension’s destruction— there had been a wedge driven in between you and him.
Your relationship, previously stronger than any trial or tribulation life had thrown your way, had shattered to pieces. And you had attempted to at least pick up the shambles and put your bond back together.. but you had met a wall every time. A wall your father had built around himself to protect his broken heart and vulnerable soul from ever being touched again.
He hadn’t made an effort.. so you figured you shouldn’t either, and just accepted the turn of his back on top of the ache you felt at the loss of your younger sibling. The weight of guilt at killing all those innocent people had become the icing on this shit cake.
To the folks that I know
It was hard for you to grow past what had happened, because you were doing it on your own. In the wake of it all, it was you and only you trying to mend yourself back together. What hurt the most was that you had depended on your father to be there for you.. you had expected that this would only make your relationship stronger. Not tear it apart.
And it was naive of you to think such a thing, childish and ignorant of you to dispose of your initial thoughts that he would react this way. Because maybe if you had you’d have been far more prepared to take the bullet that his neglectful response had fired at you.
In the end of it all —the final steps you had taken to improve yourself— you had developed a fierce sense of independence. Nobody has your back better than you. And that was the unfortunate and heartbreaking truth that you had faced head on, it was a hard pill to swallow but it was necessary for you to move forward.
You garbled a cough, the gob of blood previously sitting in your throat jacked up to spill down your chin.
You grunted as the pressure in your chest grew exponentially, the rebar pierced through your chest causing an uncomfortable sensation to sit heavy beneath your ribs.
Tell them I won’t be long
The young teenagers who have come to adopt you as their elder sibling will be heartbroken. You knew that well, and you hoped that you father had picked up on the subtlety in your message to not reveal you were dying.
They wouldn’t take it well, and you knew they would follow your father to this dimension. The last thing you wanted was for them to experience more loss than they needed at their age. You couldn’t help that though, this was going to court one way or the other. What you could control was them being there in your final moments.. you had thought that maybe it’d go down easier if your father just told them you had gone peacefully.
They’ll be happy to know
It certainly would’ve been easier for them than seeing you impaled through the chest and coughing up the blood that had begun to slowly fill your lungs.
They’d at least have some semblance of peace within the grief and pain they’d feel that you didn’t go in pain. Regardless of the fact that this was easily the worst experience you have ever had the misfortune of dealing with. But they didn’t need to know that nor did they need to see you like this.
That as you saw me go, you saw me singing this song
When your father had finally arrived he had rushed to you immediately, his mask peeling away as he approached and dropped to his knees at your side.
“No, no no no, not again. Please no.”
“Dad…”
“Shhh,” he encouraged softly, “don’t talk. Save your strength, I’m going to get you out of here.”
“It’s too late.”
He didn’t listen to the way you quietly murmured those words, their execution breathed on a plane of exhausted agony. Your heart’s rhythm slowly fading from it’s previous thunderous beat in your ears. Slowing as it gradually eased itself into a state of utter still and silence, not having enough strength to continue to keep you alive.
Miguel wouldn’t let this happen again, he refused. As he thought of the best way he could move you he thought back to when you both had come back from the dimension that had unraveled. How he had shut you out, built barbed barriers thick and tall— and left you on the outside of them.
At the remembrance an abrupt ripple of regret shucked down his back, it made the blood in his veins turn bitterly cold. It was regret that was soon joined by grief that settled in his heart, heavy as lead sinking through his chest at the prospect that you would not make it.
And he suddenly felt knots tighten themselves up in the gaping in his stomach, because he didn’t even know what the right thing to do was. He couldn’t accept this, he couldn’t.. not again. But you were in pain, certainly worse than anything you’ve ever experienced. Not only that, but you were certain it was far too late for you.
He knew if he pulled you off that thick rebar pipe you would immediately bleed to death, if he left you on there you would die of a broken heart. Literally— the rebar had punctured through your heart and lung. Now both metaphorically and physically torn apart.
“It’s too late dad.”
“Please—”
You reached up to him, cupping his cheek as he laid his hand against your own. You lifted your opposite hand to hold his wrist as he brushed his gloved thumb over your bloodied and bruised cheek.
“Please no, not like this.. please there’s too much.. too much I have to do to show you I love you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to shut you out mi amor I’m sorry—”
You did to him the same thing he had done to you seconds prior and interrupted by brushing your gloved thumb over his angular cheekbone. You felt the familiar sting in your eyes and burn in your nose as you watched him. His eyes broken and devastated, the windows into his soul wide open as his defenses crumbled. His brows taut together and a hurt frown tugging his lips down.
“It’s okay,” you promised giving him the only smile you could manage. Soft and small— but full of all the love a young child has for their father. “It’s going to be okay.”
Miguel couldn’t contain the pain he was feeling a moment longer, and his ache had erupted in the form of the rivulets of tears gliding down his cheeks. And he listened intently to them as they spoke, holding them in his arms as best he could with the rebar through their chest. Still holding their face and leaning down to press their foreheads together, he internally wept at the way theirs felt colder.
“We’ll meet again,” you promised smiling up at him as he held you in his arms and kept your foreheads together. “I don’t know where, and I don’t know when.” You felt the way your heart continued to slow, the pressure on your chest increasing dramatically as exhaustion began. “But I know we’ll meet again—”
Finally the injuries had grown to be far too much, and you had only wished you had told him how much you truly loved him no matter what. How much you had understood his feelings and how you had already forgiven him for the toxic way he had decided to cope. Breathing felt like too much work, needing extensive energy that you no longer had.
Your heart gave up first, and the very last thing you saw before the black that had been seeping in from the edges consumed you entirely— was your father looking you in the eyes with the love you had craved from him since the loss of your sister. Your lungs followed after, and Miguel only sobbed harder at the way your chest rose, then fell, rose once again.. and fell.
He felt sick and angry at himself for the way things had gone, the regret he’d felt since the destruction of that universe was abruptly more pronounced in his chest. And he wept over your body, long since gone cold, as he completed the promise you had made to him. Whispered against the skin of your cheek —cold to the touch— and lost of all color and vibrant life held within.
“Some sunny day.”
a/n: when this was being written I was listening to life eternal by ghost and it just encouraged me to put as much ouchies in this as I possibly could so I killed ya!
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bonfireheart · 3 years ago
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title: Trust Takes…A Near-Death Experience?
blurb: the one in which the newest combat avenger that has limited healing abilities proves themselves. (fem!reader)
warnings: Clint should look around before leaving cover, Reader just wants acceptance (at the cost of hurting themselves), injury, medbay vibe?, passing out, the team are kinda mean to start with, swearing
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“Now, everybody follow instructions. Nobody go off and do their own thing, this is a quick in and out mission.”
The voice of the Captain boomed through the tech-clad jet, and the brightness from the overhead lights found love in my eyes, causing me to squint in attempt to see my surroundings.
“Stark, Nat and I will clear the pathway to the entrance. Wanda, Sam and Buck, cover and protect the perimeter. Clint and Y/N enter the building quietly, get the flash drive and leave. Don’t make contact with anyone inside.”
A chorus of “got its” and a cheeky “Sir yes sir” from Sam replaced the single voice. Clint made his way over to me, blindly handing me a small handgun.
“Just in case. You should stay behind me, stay in the shadows unless I tell you otherwise. This should be easy.”
His voice was sharp and I could tell he was annoyed I was partnered up with him. I felt the whole group’s eyes set on me and shuffled back in my seat awkwardly.
Stark stood up, lowering his helmet over his head. “Yeah and uh, when you see HYDRA agents try to stay loyal to us. I know they used to be a such a dear part of your life.”
Hostility was woven in his words, and snickers surrounded me. If the ground felt like eating me whole now would be the perfect time. Or eating them. That would be better, and it would be nice to see them grovelling for my help.
Ever since Fury took me in as a HYDRA escapee, the team have been less than pleased by my mere existence. I’m not stupid, I’ve heard them talking. Things about how they couldn’t trust me, that I was a double agent. It hurt sure, but I couldn’t blame them. Who would genuinely believe that an ex-convict would want to play hero to the world? That doesn’t make their words sting any less though. Wanda wasn’t always the good girl, and neither was Nat. Bucky was one of me for gods sake. The constant bitter phrases and venomous speeches filled my life. If I got hurt on a mission, I am convinced they’d just leave me.
“Great, they’ve already zoned out.” Bucky’s voice pulled me back into reality.
Truth is, this mission was kind of scaring me. They keep calling it a simple deal, but there’s too much history there for me. What if one of the agents walking around recognise me? Would they kill me? Or would they drag me back into that lifestyle? I don’t want any part of that, and I sure as hell am working everyday to repay the world for what I did against it.
“We’re here. Get ready.”
Wanda arose from the seat beside me, giving me one glance over before stationing herself behind the doors. Same with Natasha. And Cap, Tony, Bucky, Sam and Clint.
I sighed and stood, slowly pacing my way over to them. I shut my eyes and inhaled lightly, exhaled lightly. Just like Ma taught me.
The shudder of the doors opening reminded me to extra care of myself on this mission, stay in cover and do as I’m told. I’ve resigned myself to doing that every mission though. A part of me hopes that if I just let them control everything and make the rules, well then, maybe they’d start to warm up to the idea of me.
I felt Clint grab on to my arm as he tugged me towards some boulders sat just by the entrance. I allowed myself to be pulled along and crouched low to avoid being detected. We sat in silence together, I kept my eyes trained on the scene playing out before me. I watched as the others killed people quickly and quietly, and as Nat made her way to the door of the building and opened it, ready to kill any onlookers they may have missed. I felt Clint’s eyes place on to me a few times, either from concern or disgust, I’m not too sure, and I’d rather not know.
It was time. I stood from our cover and let Clint lead the way to the door. Nat offered him a small smile as he went inside, and instantly dropped it when she saw me.
Ouch.
‘Don’t let it get to you.’ I could hear my mother’s voice in my head. It chanted like it was some mantra until I found myself following what it was saying.
The inside of the building wasn’t that much different to the outside. It was bleak, grey and was a hub of sadness if anything. Clint was four steps ahead of me, and didn’t so much as turn around to see if I was even there. Part of me thinks he wouldn’t even question my disappearance, that he just expected me to turn double agent real quick and not look back.
We found the room quickly. It wasn’t hard to locate, nor was it well secured. Typical of HYDRA. They focused their resources in the wrong places. The metal door was heavy and rusted, turning into more of a bronze colouring. It was unlocked and made a loud ‘clank’ as we opened it.
I internally cringed as the sound rang through the empty hallways. The noise was starkly contrasted when a deafening silence fell upon us. Then the footsteps came running. One pair, two pairs, several pairs of people could be heard nearing us. And as if to mock us even further, a blaring alarm played out suddenly. If this wasn’t a serious situation, it possibly would of been funny.
The archer grabbed me by the wrist and quickly tugged us into the dark room, and we found solace behind a cabinet. It wasn’t long before the door to the enclosed space opened again, and from the corner of my eyes I could see the shine of flashlights reflecting against the silver panels of the area.
“раскрыть себя (reveal yourselves).”
I shuddered at the sound of Russian. It reminded me all too well of my past, a past I’m far from proud of. The footsteps paced around the room some more, before the flashlights turned off.
“все чисто (all clear).”
Slowly, the resonating footsteps got further and further away. I knew better than that though. There is at least two men still in this room, I know HYDRA like the back of my hand. ‘Sad that they haven’t changed their ways after all these years’, and god I need to stop thinking serious situations are funny.
Before I could garner my attention back to Clint, his grasp on me lessened and though I tried stop him, he moved into plain sight.
Silence.
I held my breath and prepared for what came next, it was inevitable.
I heard Clint sigh, “Shit.”
“Ah Mr Barton, рад встрече (nice to meet you).”
A gruff Russian accent coated the man’s words, the tension in the air was thick and surrounded the room. I watched as Hawkeye slowly reached back for an arrow, setting it into his bow. I felt helpless, I couldn’t blow my cover just yet, and Clint is way too egotistical to ask for help. But still, I know this is not going to end well for him, no matter how skilled he is, he is way too outnumbered. He just doesn’t know it yet.
Ping.
The sound of a sleek, metal point hitting its bullseye in the shape of a man’s head. And lord, Clint has just brought war upon himself.
Before he could reload, or I could pull out my weapon, I heard as the door slammed open and more agents rushed in. Curse the archer for thinking he always knows best.
Gunshots resonated throughout the building, and one could only pray the others could hear it. A hand reached up to my ear piece quickly, and I pressed on it.
“Guys! Backup plea-Clint!”
I watched in horror as he dropped to the floor with a vast array of gunshot wounds taken nest on his shoulders, stomach, torso and just below his heart.
Grabbing my gun from my holster, I left cover and finished off the final three men in the room. I looked around the floor, and fair dues to Barton, he had managed to take out a fair few of them. A groan articulated from beside me and I dropped to my knees in concern. I knew I didn’t have long before more HYDRA officials found their way here and could just hope that the rest of the team would come bursting through the door.
“Clint! Clint, look at me ok? You need to stay still, I’m going to heal you, don’t move.”
My words were shaky and unstable, I don’t know if he could even understand me. But even if I was speaking properly, this man is at deaths door and words wouldn’t be comprehensible anyway. My hands rested comfortably above Clint, a small gap allowing for the particles to flow out of my hands and over his body. I worked silently, even when the door slammed open. One, two, three, four…there was at least fifteen gunshots covering him. I don’t know how far my healing ability can cope with this. I had only ever used it on myself, it was simple trick that was injected into me by HYDRA to ensure they could keep sending me out on mission after mission.
I didn’t dare move even when I heard shouts of Russian around me, or shots being fired into me, all that mattered was making sure his family had their husband and dad in one piece. I watched as his wounds slowly covered over, and as the bleeding came to a stop. My hands didn’t leave him until I knew for sure that every little mark on him was healed.
Pain pricked into me, it was didn’t hurt that much yet it made me scream. I looked up in horror and was met by the rest of the team. It felt like everything was in slow motion now. My head felt woozy and light.
‘Huh, so at least I know I can heal a pretty much dead man’. Not now brain…not now.
My eyes fluttered open and shut like a butterfly, the voices of the team were drained and quiet and my vision was blurry.
The sound of me dropping to the floor.
•/\•
Beep.
“She’s waking up, get Bruce.” “She’s awake?” “Shut up, you’re being too loud.” “You shut up!”
Open door.
“Bucky, Sam. She does not need to hear loud noises right now of all times.”
“…sorry Bruce.”
Footsteps, shut door.
My senses slowly came back to me. I can hear my heart monitor. I can feel a blanket clad around my body. I can smell disinfectant, a aroma of cleanliness. I can taste the metallic tang of blood. I let my eyes open and instantly winced at the light compared to darkness of shut eyes.
“Oh! Sorry about that.” Bruce walked over to my bed and pushed the bright lamp that shone over me to face the wall.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like the devil tried finishing the job.”
He laughed in a geeky sort of way. I don’t mind Bruce. I’ve never met met somebody who contrasted their hero alias as much as him, but I guess that’s what made him more likeable. I saw him slightly tamper with the many wires attached to my hand. He must of felt my eyes on him,
“I’m just upping the morphine.”
“No need.” I allowed my hands to perch on top of my chest and focused my energy towards myself. Gradually, it felt like the ton of bricks was being lifted from my shoulders.
“That works too, I guess. Super cool by the way, the healing thing, wish I had that.”
The door crashed open again, this time the team came stumbling into the room.
“I said one at a time!” Natasha spoke up.
“Yeah, you just always got to be right dont you?”
“Stark, I will widow bite you.”
Wanda made her way over to me with a steaming bowl. It smelt amazing, and my stomach was absolutely begging for food. Not to mention the need to recharge my energy.
“It’s gulyas. My mama’s recipe. I’ve seen you eat it before so I just thought…”
“Thank you Wanda. It smells like home.” I leant forward to take the bowl from her.
“Should you be feeding yourself?” She asked as she moved the bowl away from me quickly.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, I can heal myself. I feel good as new. Just a little rough round the edges is all.” I joked light-heartedly.
The Sokovian looked doubtful as she passed it over to me, setting it gently on my side table and produced a spoon. By now, Bruce had managed to calm the others down, reminding them they were in a medical facility.
Clint awkwardly cleared his throat and captured the attention of everyone.
“I uh…just wanted to thank you for healing me. I thought that mission might of been my last so just..yeah..thanks.”
I smiled at him.
“Hey, it’s part of the job right? Protecting people. Nobody said it had to be just civilians.”
Steve lightly nudged Tony.
“My turn already?”
The others looked at him with annoyed glances.
“Ugh fine. Listen Nightingale, we just wanted to…apologise for how we treated you. You clearly have the teams best…interests at heart.”
Groans encompassed the space.
“Really Tony?” “You could of been slightly heartfelt!”
“What Tony is trying to say Y/N, is that we were unfair. Especially considering the fact that three of us were the same as you…technically four but Tony made weapons of destruction so I’d argue that’s worse.” Natasha cut in, looking towards me hopefully.
“Forgive us? Start afresh?”
I looked down in my lap. It felt weird hearing them say sorry. Or even having their attention full stop.
“I’m not going to lie and say I can just move on from this…it kinda hurt the way I was treated. It felt like when I was trying to finally put stuff right, I was just being shunned even more…”
“That was our fault. Completely.”
“But, I am willing to try. You guys seem cool when you’re nice.” I laughed quietly.
“Seem? Seem? I AM cool.”
“Tony, for fucks sake.”
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melis-writes · 2 years ago
Note
Not sure if this has been requested before but… Victoria giving Michael a blow job either whilst driving or the car is parked somewhere
Think we need a whole lot of this steamy, sexy moments if you ask me. 😈 PULL OVER! Let Victoria completely seduce Michael into it…🥵🥵🥵
“Victoria,” Michael mumbles under his breath, attempting not to distract himself any further as he continues driving up the pathway. “We’re ten minutes from home and—"
“I don’t care,” you purr back, teasingly letting your fingers glide over the smooth leather of Michael’s belt. “You know we won’t make it in time.”
Michael presses his lips down into a firm line, forcing himself to stare at the round as you purposefully begin to lower your hand on his crotch to feel the poking erection through Michael’s dress trousers.
“All day in that stuffy conference room and I don’t get a piece of you to myself…” You sigh dramatically under your breath, unclicking your seatbelt. “When we could be here relaxing one another instead.”
“While I’m driving?” Michael’s eyes momentarily flicker down to your hand continuing to sensually massage his erection.
“I guess you can still pay attention just as well.” You smirk, unclasping Michael’s belt.
“I don’t think so.” Michael mutters, steering towards the side of the road before slowing down the car.
“Mm, well, I’ll just help myself.” Leaning over from your seat and letting your breasts almost spill free from your dress, you pull off Michael’s belt and tug his trousers with his briefs down at once.
Hearing Michael’s breath softly hitch, you lick over your lips and let his fully erect cock spring out—already oozing with precum at the tip.
“You wanna make a mess in your new Alfa Romeo?” Michael presses on the breaks slowly, parking the car by the side of the road.
“If it’s your mess, why not?” You eagerly position your mouth over the tip of Michael’s cock.
“Fuck,” Michael hisses under his breath—his tone falling deep and breathy. “You’re really doing this here and now.”
“I just want a taste, Don Corleone.” Making eye contact with Michael, you wrap your lips around his cock and lick off the salty precum.
Michael grasps his cock momentarily to angle it in your mouth, relaxing his body against the car seat as he grips back a fistful of your hair out of your face. “’Atta girl… Look at me.”
You peek back up as Michael’s cock slips out of your mouth. Michael gives your face a gentle squeeze enough to pry open your lips, coaxing, “open your mouth.”
You do as Michael says obediently and blush furiously to feel him spit in your mouth, guiding your head back down on his cock. “Like that…”
“Mm…” Mixing Michael’s spit in your mouth, the pool of wetness between your legs only grows from amplified arousal as you drool over Michael’s shaft.
Michael grunts quietly to himself, completely enthralled in pleasure from your warm, wet mouth sucking over his cock. “That’s right…”
With his expression twisted in arousal and lust, Michael watches you from lazy eyes as you take his cock down the back of your throat as much as you can.
Holding onto Michael’s thigh, you sloppily suck over his cock, coating all eight inches of him in your spit until it oozes down every inch.
Bobbing your head up and down, you suck Michael off at an insistent but steady pace and clasp one hand over his shaft to pump it at the same time.
“Oh fuck,” Michael moans louder this time, only turning you on even more to hear his voice strained with the pleasure you provide him. “Victoria…”
Giving Michael as messy of a blowjob as you can, you can tell from the way his hips buck up into your mouth that Michael’s enjoying every bit of it and demanding more.
Only the sounds of you sucking and slurping your spit back off Michael’s cock then drooling back over it can be heard in the car, mixed with Michael’s inability to stop himself from groaning out.
Long used to taking his length down your throat time and time again, you easily keep up and even quicken your pace.
Michael’s cock twitches in your mouth as he clasps one hand over the steering wheel and the other over your ass, squeezing harshly.
On the verge of his orgasm, you can tell Michael’s getting closer to his climax but you refuse to relent.
“Victoria, baby—” Michael groans loudly, moving his hand down between your thighs. “I’m close.”
You suckle over Michael’s tip, tasting more of his precum in your mouth as you let your tongue do the work.
“Ohhhhh,” Michael attempts to quiet himself and say your name again, but the shockwaves of pleasure rushing over him are too much to resist. “Baby, I’m cumming. Fuck, fuuuuck…”
Giving a final moan, the moment you feel Michael’s hips jerk up from releasing his climax is the very second you pull back but keep his cock pressed against your mouth.
“Shit—” Michael’s hot, sticky cum spurts out over a dozen times and completely coats over your lips and mouth—dripping onto your breasts.
“Couldn’t wait till we got home?” You lick off as much of Michael’s cum off your lips as you can, grasping his cock in your hand again.
“Since you’re that impatient,” Michael breathes out hotly, “I say this is a good look for you. You wanna come home looking like this, hmm? Like a slut?” He tilts your chin up to face him.
“Your slut.” You pant back, giggling. “Haven’t you noticed yet?” You press your free hand down on Michael’s between your thighs, inching it to your bare pussy soaked from your own arousal. “I’m not wearing any panties either, Don Corleone. What do you want to do about that when we’re ten minutes from home?”
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ghoul-bonez · 2 years ago
Text
~Through the Wind and Rain~
Chapter 4 (Promise Not to Leave)
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OC x OC set in the “Avatar: The Way of Water” universe…
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Summary: Jake Sully has always been an intimidating man, so when he asked Niri’te to talk with him she feared the worst.
Word count: 1.2k
Author's note: Life has been crazy so this took 2 days to edit…
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Last - Next
Masterlist
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Chapter 4 (Promise Not to Leave)
I knew the Sullys enough to call them by a first name basis. Jake's attempts to get his kids to be friends with me had failed because I refused to let them in, but for some reason they still seemed to like me.
They would call us friends, even after the many times I would try to correct them, denying our friendship. I had always liked Kiri more than the rest, but saw a lot of myself in Lo’ak which I think is why I fought so hard against their attempts at being friendly. I was already a troublemaker. I would not turn the Olo’eyktan’s son into one like myself.
Walking towards the Sully’s marui I knew Jake wouldn’t do anything to harm me, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t extremely worried about what would lay past the doorway, many outcomes came to mind, only about half seeming good. As soon as I entered their home Neytiri immediately stood in front of me, she hissed frustratedly while Jake rubbed her arm, “How could you abandon your own kind!?”
Jake seemed just about as upset and I finally had my first real doubt about my choice to come, I was so screwed if I messed absolutely anything up, “Yeah, what sort of idea wormed its way into your head that made you want to leave the Omatikaya people.”
I didn’t want to explain my whole story to the Metkayina who I barely knew, but I felt I owed Neytiri and Jake an explanation, “It didn’t feel like I was among my own kind.” I sighed, almost just as frustrated as Neytiri, “My parents died alongside you fighting the Sky People, and after they passed I had my aunt who basically counts as nobody. Nobody came to my side. I was essentially the clan’s pet, you should know that of all people. I know you tried your best to help, but I was stubborn and didn’t accept it, but when you left I truly had nobody. So I left the forest. Here I won’t just be “the orphan” that people feel the need to be kind to. I won’t have to mostly fend for myself. I will be my own person here.”
It was once the Sully children started to really stare at us that Jake sighed and spoke again, “Let’s go have a conversation outside.” I knew I didn’t want to be a part of the conversation that was about to happen, but I accepted it.
Whatever he had to say to me had to be better than the tongue lashing Neytiri would give me. We walked outside, him guiding me to the edge of the pathway and sitting down. I awkwardly sat next to him, making sure to keep my distance.
Jake sighed, “I want you to realize no matter how much you hated your aunt, or how little she did to show her love for you, your decision hurt her. I have felt the pain of losing a family member, I know how you feel with your parents, how long the grief sticks with you. I have promised the clan leaders that I will take care of you. I want you to succeed here, I want you to grow. I don’t want to watch you go back home with your tail between your legs. I know you don’t want to go back either. You will follow the same rules as my kids, you will adapt, and learn fast. You will pull your weight, and stay out of trouble. Got it?”
I let out a relieved sigh, happy that this was an accepting conversation, not a “go back home” one, “Yes sir. I know she is upset, but I did this for myself, and you of all people should know sometimes you have to be selfish for yourself to thrive.”
Jake placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing slightly to reassure me, “I get that kid, but you need to learn that you can’t run from your problems. I need you to promise me one thing.”
I frowned, I was never great at keeping promises, “I’ll try.”
He smiled at me, “Alright, I need you to promise me that you will not leave. No matter what happens, no matter how much you struggle to learn or adapt. You will stay.”
I smiled back at him, that was a promise I could keep, “I can promise you that. Also you do know you don’t have to feel obligated to watch out for me, right?”
“But I do, I was your Olo’eyktan. My job was to watch over my people and keep them safe. I may not be Olo’eyktan anymore, not with the Omatikaya, and definitely not with the Metkayina, but that spirit still resides in me. To care for my people, you are still one of my people.” He seemed a lot more relaxed now, “Alright, back inside. It's time to eat.” He ruffled my hair before heading back inside with me following behind.
When we got inside Neytiri was still visibly upset, but she seemed to not want to skin me alive anymore. I quietly took a seat between Lo’ak and Tuk, trying to not draw much attention, and after a couple minutes the food was served.
I ate happily, except for having to smack both Tuk and Lo’ak’s hands away from my food which they were trying to steal. Eventually they gave up though after Kiri pestered them.
It felt a bit empty without Neteyam, but I silently worked through the feelings I was having on my own. It led to me being quieter than usual, which I’m sure everyone noticed, but thankfully nobody brought it up although I would easily be able to pass it off as exhaustion after my trip.
Eventually we split ways and I found my way to my own marui which Leyra had shown me to earlier. I was exhausted so I quickly set up my hammock, hanging it from two support beams across from one another. I sat down in it but before laying down and going to sleep I decided to pray to Eywa as I added a bead to my song chord.
A bead for my new life in Awa’atlu. I felt this was a big enough occasion to add to the song of my life. I gathered my song chord and rifled through my things looking for the perfect bead, but as I came up short I looked around my marui.
Hung on one of the walls was a net with little shells weaved into it. I slowly went to it, exhaustion weighing down my bones, and used my knife to snag the net, cutting it and releasing the shell into my hand. It was perfect.
As I sat down to tie the shell into my song chord I spoke, “Eywa, if you are listening, I would love a sign that I am truly meant to be here, I don’t really have the choice to leave now, but I would like to get confirmation I made the right decision. I want to make sure I am on the right path. I will be watching for your sign, Great Mother. Thank you.”
Once I was done praying I heard a noise, once, twice, then more times than I could count. The rain had come once again. I knew that was some sort of sign, it had to be, but it wasn’t enough for me.
The rain will never be enough for me, and someday that will be my downfall.
After the rain began I felt at peace, and laid back, falling into a peaceful sleep. I will be looking for her sign.
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Word Bank:
Olo’eyktan (Clan leader)
Marui (Metkayina homes)
Omatikaya (Forest Na’vi)
Metkayina (Ocean Na’vi)
Sky People (Humans)
Awa’atlu (Metkayina village)
Eywa (Na’vi goddess)
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myveryownfanfiction · 3 years ago
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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI
YOU WILL BE BLOCKED AND REPORTED
warnings: cemetery, chucky being chucky, talk of death, drinking, swearing
requested by: @salemwitch96
request: A walk amongst the tombstones would definitely be a chucky type of idea.
Chucky threw his arm over my shoulders once he landed next to me. He smirked at me before tugging me with him towards the pathway.
“Told you it was be a piece of cake doll face.” I rolled my eyes as I wrapped my arm around his waist. “Now we can have some fun.” He stuck a hand in his coat and pulled out two bottles. Taking one, I turned back towards the wall and popped the cap off. Chucky did the same.
“To prolonging our inevitable demise.” I tilted my bottle towards him and he clinked our bottles together.
“To Damballa.” We each took a drink before moving among the tombstones. “You know, people go through their entire life planning this shit out. It’s like some weird morbid obsession with death that starts the day you’re born. What’s with that shit?” I shrugged as I ducked out from under his arm and maneuvered through a small clump of headstones.
“Who knows. And then there are others who try to prolong it for as long as they can. Like us.” Chucky tilted his bottle towards me. “Oh look. Some poor kid…” I trailed off, my own thought process depressing me. Chucky stood next to me before raising his bottle in a toast.
“To Stephen Parker. May the short life you lived have been full of…” Chucky paused before shrugging. “Life.”
“Here here.” I raised my own bottle before tossing it back in time with Chucky.
“It’s always sadder when it’s a kid.” Chucky mumbled as he moved away from the headstone. I dug in my pocket and pulled out a penny, placing it on the headstone. I ran my finger over the little Spider-Man emblem etched into the stone and smiled sadly as I walked in Chucky’s direction. “They don’t even get a fucking chance at life. It isn’t fair to them. Maybe their folks deserve it. But they don’t.” I rubbed his back as we finally reached what appeared to be our destination.
“Who is it?” I stopped as Chucky leaned against a tall headstone. He motioned for me to read it.
“Peter and Elizabeth Ray. Loving husband and wife and parents.” I dug through my pockets again and pulled out four coins. I put them at the base of the headstone like I had with the kid’s. “To your parents.” I held my bottle up. Chucky did the same. I took a quick swig but Chucky seemed to be gulping his down. He tossed the empty bottle away before taking another out of his coat. He opened it on the headstone before brushing off the slight dust that appeared.
“Its my fault they’re dead you know.” He sat down amongst the dried leaves and leaned his head against the stone. His eyes were closed but his face was turned up towards me. “There was a serial killer here in Hackensack. Not me. I was barely six. I think. He got dad in the living room. I saw the body. Ran upstairs to mom. She hid me in the closet. I could have stopped him. Or tried to. But I let him kill her. I could have called the police or screamed when I saw dad but I didn’t.” I kneeled down next to him and put my hand on his shoulder.
“Chuck…” I squeezed his shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“You know what I did after?” I shook my head. “I learned from him. And then when I was in foster care, I started killing myself. And I got Eddie into it too.” Chucky opened his eyes finally. “I don’t regret it. Maybe them.” His eyes flickered down to the ground before back at me. “But not the rest.” I smirked at him.
“I don’t regret any of it either.” I leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Especially not that bitch at the bar. Either of them.” Chucky laughed before standing up and offering me a hand. I took it and he helped me up.
“That was fun.” He agreed before leading me back through the graveyard.
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kpopjust4u · 3 years ago
Text
Something about you.
Post Date: 22nd May 2022 Content: Fluff - ATEEZ Wooyoung x Reader WC: 1775 TW?: Tooth rotting stuff... please he’s so cute Request?: Yes
Masterlist                                    Prompt list
Prompt list: 32 - “What did you just say?” 54 - “You look amazing” 141 - “I tried to play it cool”
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“Psst... Y/N... PSST” Wooyoung pokes your back from his desk behind you, you snap your head to turn around at your classclown classmate, “What?” you try to reply in a calm manner. He’s already annoyed you enough with the constant giggling and jokes he’s made to the teacher, you were losing all sanity but you’ve known him since you were children. You weren’t close by any means but he’s that friend who you grow up in school with and now you’re in your last year of college together, you were ready to leave his antics behind.
With a grin on his face, he tries to stuffle laughter as he pushes his book across the desk, “Do my work for me? I don’t know the answer~” he whines playfully, as you roll your eyes, writing down the answers on a spare piece of paper, scrumpling it up into a ball then throwing it at his head. You can hear his little giggle under his breath as he sighs, unravelling the paper, “Thank you, best friend~” he whispers in a singing tone. You couldn’t wait to get out of class, to have piece when you get home but that was a short-lived hope and dream.
Music blasts from your earphones fills your ears as you enjoy your own space, walking out of the school and into the main street, ready for the afternoon to be spent by yourself, but as you get ready to cross the lights, you feel a tap on your shoulder. By no suprise, you come face-to-face with Wooyoung again, clutching onto the straps of his backpack, trying to look cool, as he stands there sassily, a leg out, grinning at you. “What do you want?” you scoff, not wanting to pause your music and take a earphone out, but you’re too polite not to. 
He shrugs, grin basically plastered on his face, though when you attempt to walk away, he runs in front of you, blocking your pathway as he steps to either side to stop you walking away from him. “What?” he bite, but regret it when his smile turns into a small lip curl, “I just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out?” he says softly, you want to shake your head and tell him no but he’s now standing there pouting like a little baby. “Sure, what time do you want to meet up later?” you say, caving into him. When he was cute and soft like this, you couldn’t resist him. His grin returns as he excitedly squeals, “7pm, please? I’ll meet you here!” within seconds, he’s running home, excitedly screaming on his way.
- Time Skip - 
Wooyoung stands there anxiously outside the school. He acts so confident in front of everyone but when he’s alone, he’s awkward and shy. He’s so scared that he’s going to ruin the evening by doing something he can’t take back. It was just going ot be the both of you and he can’t help but fall over heels for you everytime he sees you. He wanted to ask you out for months, but he can’t even think about asking you without being weird and try make a joke about something else.
He’s in the middle of daydreaming when you show up, tapping him lightly to wake him up, “Earth to Woo~” you tease, as he jumps, a little scoff leaving his mouth, “Don’t scare me like that” he whines. You couldn’t help but laugh at him which he totally took offence to, folding his arms and walks away, making you follow him. “Woo, don’t be like that you silly goose” you tease even more, recieving a side eye and pout, which instantly turned into a smirk, he couldn’t help himself one bit. You were irristable to him. He comes to a stop to let you catch up to him before putting an arm around you, over your shoulders. You gave him a stupid look, rolling your shoulders so he would remove his arm, then tries to use your hands to push him off but he just pulled you in tighter. You gave up, realising that it was either his way or you wouldn’t hear the end of it, of you “being mean to him”. 
“Are you hungry?” he asks all of a sudden, you instantly take the hint that he was going to get food whether you wanted to or not, “Sure, I could eat,” you reply as his signature grin plasters his face once again. 
It took long enough for you to decide where to go to eat, since you spent a good 20 minutes arguing what food was better than what. He teased you for anything you said that he didn’t agree with. Luckily you found somewhere where you both could eat happily as he attempts to be a gentleman, pulling out a chair for you to sit on but couldn’t resist the urge to sit the seat himself. “What?” he asks innocently, as you rolls your eyes at him, “Nothing, just order me food, will you?” you said, half jokingly. He mockingly laughed as he pushes his phone to you, letting you write your order in on his notes. 
A small smile appears on his face when he sees your order, with your name next to it, ‘Y/N’s order <3′. He couldn’t help but huff happily, getting up to order your food. Whilst he was distracted you took his seat, as you patiently waited for him to return. The time it took for his to do so, it had you thinking about why he invited you out specifically, what did it mean? And why were you actually enjoying company, were you realising that you may have a crush on him? This left you puzzled. 
“How dare you!” you heard him moan playfully behind you, as you broke into laughter, turning around to grab your food off him, put he pulls it away quickly before you could grab it. Now you were the one pouting at him, and he found himself out-played by his own trick. How could he not give in, your pout was too cute for him to even contain himself, “Fine, only because you look amazing, and cute~” he lets out, eyes widening at the realisation he actually said that out loud, audibly panicking. “What did you just say?” you scoff, almost choking on your drink, wide eyed at him as he sits down, trying to ignore eye-contact with you and trying to change the subject, “I hope you like what you’ve ordered!” he sings, but you grab his hand unintentionally, “Woo, it’s okay, what did you say?” you asked him to repeat as a bright red blush appears on his cheeks. 
Though he shakes his head, “I said you smell~” he replies, internally screaming at his himself. You decide to leave it there, not wanting to pry, but you heard him clear as day, but you wanted to hear it again. Something in what he said and the way he said it gave you butterflies. You struggled to eat your food whilst it ran through your head, making you turn red yourself. 
- Time Skip - 
After eating, you decide it was best to let Wooyoung walk you home, you knew you’d have no choice or say anyway so it was best just to say yes to him. Plus you wanted to spend that little extra time you had with him alone. As your feet away from your house, you let curiousity get the best of you as you had to ask him, “What was earlier about, Woo?”, his eyes widen at the question as he laughs, shrugging his shoulders, playing it off as nothing.
“Woo please?”, you beg, as he sighs, rolling his eyes playfully as he knew if he didn’t you’d pout and he will not let you out-pout him again, “I have a crush on you... okay? That’s why I always bug you in class, and maybe why I tried to play it cool today. I can’t stop thinking about you!” he said so fast that you struggled to keep him, only so he could get it out without having to hear himself confess longer than he needed to. 
Though you managed to catch onto what he said, standing there with your cheeks redder than the lipstick you could’ve put on today. You weren’t sure how to respond, you weren’t sure how you felt yourself but you knew that the way he talks to you about how he feels, became addictive. “Say that again please?” you ask sweetly, giving him the big eyes. He scoffs, not believing that you’re actually asking him to repeat himself, “Why~” he whines in a bratty way, getting all embarrassed. “Because I like hearing you tell me how you feel, because I think I feel the same”.
There was a moment of silence as he tries to process what you said, his mouth went from being onto the floor into the biggesr toothy, smirk you’ve ever seen in your life, and his eyes light up. “Woo? Are you-” you try to ask if he was okay, but you get interrupted by his soft lips crashing onto yours. You freeze for a second before melting into the kiss, wrapping your arms around him as you pull him closer to you, his arms wrapped around your waist before breaking away from the kiss. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he tried to apologise, but you put a finger to his lips, shutting him up, “Shut it, I’ll see you in class tomorrow?” you ask, pulling away from him to walk towards your door. Already additcted to your touch, he tries to pull you back, pouting and whining softly, managing to get hold of your hand. “Yes, but one more kiss. Please~” he cries, like a child asking their parents for more sweets. 
With the amount of times you’ve rolled your eyes at this boy today, you’re suprised you’ve still got eyes in your head. Trying not to cave into him, you avoid eye-contact but his hand cupping your cheek made you instantly look at him, giving him a little smile before giving him the quickest peck possible, before running into the doorway of your house, “I’ll see you tomorrow” you shout, closing the door behind you as he pulls a tantrum in his spot before excitedly scrunching his nose, “Yes! I got the girl!” he loudly whispers, pulling a first in towards his side before making his way back to his flat to tell his friends all about how he got the girl. They’ll never hear the end of it. 
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wizkiddx · 4 years ago
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hiii!!! omg please please pleasee do a part two of 3 hearts broken cus it fucking slaps miss girl
part 2 to 3 broken hearts!!! ive been so 🥺 at all the lovely comments+interest pt 1 had so thanku all !
summary: serious serious angst again will tom somehow get it back (unlike looking cos boy is a fool)
warnings: again lots of swearing (im British sorry not sorry) / wayyyy too much tea / slating Dom abit (obvs fictional but idk if I like the guy sorry his opinions are :/) / commitment issues
/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
read part 1 here!!!!
That was three days ago now. Three days since you'd spoken to your boyfrien- well, Tom. It wasn't evident what the situation was.
The typical British weather brought with it the most ironic pathetic fallacy you could ever see. The clouds were dark and glooming, firing angry pellets of rain out as hard as they could. When you had pulled up on the roadside, it had just been a light drizzle but synchronised with your anxiety levels rising - so did the rain. When you finally opened up the car door, you threw your hoodie open with a sigh before running up the pathway to the front door.
It was the same burgundy red that you knew so well, but this time instead of just letting yourself in - you stood in the rain used the brass knocker thing twice. To be honest, you were hoping that no one was home - but in that house, it was pretty unlikely. After 30 seconds of getting drenched in the downpour, you were about to let yourself in with the spare key before the door swung open.
"Oh! Er Y/n?"
"Yeh um hi." You had to shout a bit over the sound of what must now be classified as a storm.
"Toms not-"
"I know. Can I come in?" As awkward and stunted as this conversation was, if you didn't get out of the rain asap you would literally end up drowned.
“Oh er yeh-yeh yeh come in.”
Harry stammered as he held the door open, gesturing for you to enter into the tiled hallway. Gratefully, you followed, throwing your sopping wet hood back down and wiping your feet on the floor.
"Sorry for just showing up, but I left some scripts here. My management are on my arse to read them and-"
"And you waited till Tom left for mum and dads?" The fluffy-haired boy has caught you red-handed; there was no defence, so you didn't even try.
Because yes, you knew on a Friday afternoon when Tom was home he would always, like clockwork, go to his parents just to kick back and watch gogglebox with both of them. It was only natural then that you chose Friday afternoon to come and pick up your stuff.
"I've been waiting in my car for half an hour till I saw him leave." Harry half laughed at that, still the two of you standing opposite each other in the hallway. "Um, do you… do you hate me Harry?"
Clearly, he hadn't quite been expecting your question going by the way his eyes almost bugged out his head.
"No, I-I, of course, I don't… look, I'm home alone so you fancy a cuppa?" Not being able to help the small chuckle, you nodded appreciatively, following Harry through the house.
"Your answer to everything is tea."
Harry had prepared the two mugs in silence as you sat at the table waiting patiently - if nervously too. You didn't miss how Harry had still used your favourite mug, having had to dig through the cupboard to find the weird square-shaped thing. Once done, he rounded the kitchen island and placed it in front of you, which you instantly cradled in two hands - for the hope of warming you up.
"You cold?" Obviously, it was pretty evident that sitting in your rain-soaked hoodie was not cosy at all. "Hang on a sec."
The boy sprung up again, returning moments later with a hoodie in hand, one he offered out to you with a little smile. The issue was that him and Tom shared clothes, so the hoodie he was kindly offering to you also had been worn by Tom before. Which made it hurt a little bit to wear. It was better than sitting soaked through though.
"How have you been then?"
"Not the best, to be honest, but uh… how about you?"
"Being with Tom while he's fighting with you? Oh, it's a barrel of laughs. You might've escaped it, but I haven't." He was trying to lighten the mood, and you appreciated it, offering him a half-smile that didn't really meet your eyes.
"Yeh sorry about that."
"Don't apologise; it doesn't sound like it's your fault Y/n."
That surprised you. Tom, especially when he was in moods like he was when you argued, wasn't one to admit when he was wrong. It was usually how the world was against him and how he was so hard done by. Accepting responsibility was something he hadn't said to you yet - but at least, small steps.
"He say that?"
"Pretty much… doesn't seem like he's angry at you, but-but he's still angry."
"At the world?" You rolled your eyes; this seemed to be the same old Tom through and through. Still immature. Still not with the right mindset.
"At himself." Harry countered, slightly entertained, when he saw the flash of surprise in your face as he sipped his drink. "And me… if I dare to so much as breathe this week."
This time you properly laughed, and Harry joined in too before the room fell back to silence - except the noise of the rain hitting the garden patio slats. You swirled the tea round in your mug, feeling the brunette's eyes on you. He'd always been your fake little brother too, since you'd met the Hollands way back 3 and a half years ago. Tom and yourself were barely adults, which meant the twins were still proper children. Harry had always been the one that understood you. Hollands, by nature, loved humans - loved to talk, to chat, to gossip. But sometimes, doing all that socialising got too much for you, as it did for Harry. He was the only one that seemed to understand social exhaustion. So when those moments had hit, you'd kept each other company in silence.
He got you, sometimes in ways your own boyfriend didn't.
"You know why he got so worked up, right?" You shook your head, looking up curiously. "Dad got under his skin on his birthday zoom thing."
Ah, now that did seem to coincide with the start of Tom's more petulant phase. To be fair, Tom had been asking to move in together for near enough a year now - but it was only in the past month it seemed to be the only thing you'd talk about and obviously only three days since the flight back. Dom's birthday barely a week ago, whilst you and Tom were both filming - except Tom had managed to get a day off where you hadn't. So you hadn't heard this conversation.
"What'd he say?"
"Was talking about how he and mum were settling down at Toms age, joked about how you rejected him, said maybe you were holding out for something better."
"Something better?" Harry sighed, leaning forward onto his elbows.
"He'd seen an article just off a trashy tabloid… it named you Hollywood's golden girl or something, said you could have the pick of any person on the planet…"
Of all the people in the world, why is Tom affected by shit journalism? He knows how much bullshit people write. He knows how it's all made up, exaggerated nonsense. And what he should know, completely and totally, is how much you love him. And if he didn't, was that your fault? Had you done something wrong, something to make him doubt you?
Harry seemed to notice the internal dialogue going on in your head, adding to the point. "It wasn't the article though, it was the fact dad said it."
Hmmm.
You and Dom got on; it wasn't like you hated the possible future father in law or whatever. Just…. you had very different outlooks. As much as Tom prided himself on how' grounded his family keeps him' -to you at least, they aren't entirely at sea level either. They'd never really had any particular struggles in life. They were the definition of middle class, and that's about it. They lived in a posh suburb of London, had all their family still around. It was the perfect family.
And whilst you were in no illusions about how privileged your life was now. It hadn't always been. You'd never had the 'nuclear' family. Instead, only your dad and a string of dodgy and fleeting stepmothers while struggling to make ends meet. So you were just always wary of Dom, of his opinions that so often his boys took for gospel. They always seemed pretty sheltered and close-minded.
And yet, Tom was a grown man.
"I get that, I just… Tom should know that we know more about our relationship than his dad. I mean,… have I done something wrong? Made him think I'm not in this for the long haul?"
"No nonono Y/n he's just… well he's an idiot, isn't he? I don't think he properly understands why you're cautious about moving and everything. He's just an idio- "
Harry was cut off for lightly insulting his brother by the sound of the front door opening, both of your heads swivelling towards the source. You then met Harry's eyes in a panic, to which he replied relatively simply.
"Just talk to each other. For my sake." You would've argued if it weren't for the fact you were so focused on Tom's shuffling around in the entrance hallway - back early from his parents.
"Baz? Where you at? I thought I saw Y/n's car and-"
"Kitchen!!!" Before Tom could say anything else, possibly landing himself in more trouble, Harry interrupted as his chair screeched while standing up. And then Tom was just there. Standing in the doorway, his arms dropping limply to his side as he noticed you. Everything about that moment seemed to freeze, when you locked eyes with him for the first time in three days. It didn't go unnoticed, the way his Adams apple bobbed, the way his eyes widen. The boy looked plain and simply terrified.
It was Harry who broke the silence, after giving you a stern look that said 'stay'. The younger Holland boy walked up to Tom and spoke.
"Try actually talking and actually listening about your problems with each other." And then he was gone, down the hallway and up the stairs.
For a few moments, Tom stayed absolutely stationary, now staring at where Harry had been when speaking to the both of you (but mainly Tom). Long enough to put your sense of unease at an all-time high, ready to make a break for it.
"If you don't want to talk, then I can leav-"
"NO!" Apparently snapping out of it, Tom exclaimed loud enough to make you flinch from your seat. "Sorry! I-I just… I wasn't expecting to… you know, to see you."
"Yeh I just uh- just came to pick up some scripts… Harry cornered me with a tea, though; otherwise, I'd be…."
"Baz thinks the whole world could be fixed with tea."
"that's what I said!" You instinctively responded, forgetting the fact you're supposed to be mad at him, and just for a second falling back into your normal flow.
Tom didn't even try to hide his grin in response, until you quickly corrected your face- then he did too. Turning around to put the kettle on for himself. Because right now, he needed to fix his whole world, and he needed all the help he could get. For a period, the only noise was the sound of the kettle boiling, then the teaspoon clinking against the mug as he stirred - until he padded over, taking the seat across from you.
"So."
"So."
"It's been a while," Tom stated the bloody obvious.
"You never called."
"Didn't think you'd want me to."
You thought that the early signs weren't all that auspicious. His ability to read a situation once again failing.
"I wanted you to say something."
"Say what?"
"What do you think Tom?" He replied to the sarcastic tone by sucking in a sharp breath, holding it for a second, before slowly exhaling. As if trying to compose himself, take time to think of a response - a mature move for him.
"Well, I think you want me to say sorry? For being so moody and not waiting for you and for upsetting those kids. And thanks too, for covering for me?"
You just hummed. Waiting for him to continue. Because yes, you did deserve all those things. But you also deserved more. An apology for, oh I don't know, saying he didn't think you loved him? It was a wait that never ended, he had nothing more to add.
"Going by your face, I take it I missed something?"
The bloody cheek of it.
"Theres nothing else? Nothing else at all? …" You gave him that chance, the opportunity but all he could respond with was a shake of his head. "You thought I was fine about you saying that I don't love you?" You hadn't intended on raising your voice, but really you hadn't realised you did till after the fact. To blinded by rage at his ignorance.
"You want to talk about this now?"
"When else Tom?" You sighed, realising he perhaps wasn't ready for this conversation. Maybe he needed more time to think things through, have sense talked into him by various wiser family members. Or maybe, he never would be. That was the worst-case scenario. But also… you're most likely prediction.
He shuffled in his seat, clearing his voice but not saying anything. Not a peep.
"I have spent three years of my life with you. I've had countless nights of too little sleep because that was the only time you could facetime. I've exposed my relationship to the world and people's opinions because you didn't want to hide. All I've done is love you. How could you even say that?" There might've been tears in your eyes, yet you were determined to keep them at bay. You needed to have this out, one way or another, to be clear and cohesive and logical. No time to cry.
"Y/n I know that, I…" He sighed, instinctively reaching for your hand, but you were quicker to pull it away. There was hurt in his eyes, but so there should be. "It just sometimes feels like that's it for you. That yeh you love me but you just want to standstill. That this is as much as it'll ever be."
Your emotions were suddenly uncontainable. Your voice croaked as you whispered, "Have I done something wrong?"
"No love, nonono if that's how you feel then that's okay. But it's something I'm not… shit this is hard." He took a pause to take a sip of his drink, your glazed eyes never leaving his. "I don't think I can stand still anymore. And yeh I was pissy and childish the other day because my dad got under my skin about the whole moving in thing… But these past few days, it just has got me thinking. Because I love you, so much."
This time when he reached out to grab your hand, you actually leaned into it yourself. Not because you were giving in, but because this hurt. This hurt so fucking much that you needed something to ground you, or else god knows. Because the way he was speaking, it sounded so finite.
"I love you too."
"I do know, which is…is why this is so hard." At the very least, Tom had conceded that.
The conversation ceased to silence yet again. The room felt so cold; even Tom/Harry's hoodie was doing nothing to keep you from the endless empty cold that seemed to be coming from within.
"When I re-registered my health card last month, and I made you my emergency contact on it. I-I made you my next of kin on everything actually. I didn't think about it twice. And-and this-"You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, immediately pulling up the app onto the open page. "This is my Pinterest board for our baby's nursery theme. I know-" You paused, to quickly wipe your cheeks clear of the tear tracks that may or may not have been there. "I know it's probably a long way away, but I just love the Scandinavian theme." You laughed at yourself, suddenly embarrassed at your blabbering and quickly pulled up a different app. "And this… this was from the other week when I was helping Y/bf/n start her vows." Hands trembling as you turned the phone around for Tom to see again. "She was finding it really tricky so she said, what would you say to Tom on your wedding, so-so I made this list." You only dared to look at him when you were sure he'd be reading through that note.
It was bizarre because he looked… well, he looked happy. Here you were feeling traumatised, showing things that you'd barely even deeped how committed they were - and he was pleased? Feeling the fire burn once again inside of your chest, you quickly swiped the phone away and back into your pocket. Only then did he look up, eyes widening - presumably at quite how psychotic you looked.
"So don't you dare say that I don't want a future with you."
You said it with such force, there was a pause. Tom letting those words sink deep into his brain. The way his expression flickered minutely gave you hope. You thought he got it. You thought he really understood now.
"But why don't you want to move in then?"
There it was again. He knew why. But he didn't get it. And, probably, he never would.
You were about to crash completely. So you ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even aware of your chair crashing to the floor in your wake. You ran out of that house and away from him. Away from who you had thought was the love of your life.
?give tom a final chance w one last part?
feedback is always v v appreciated <3
tom taglist : @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08
people i think might be interestd in this (sorry if not just let me know and i'll remove the tag!!!): @obiwanownsmyass @wildxwidow @parkersvogue @coffeewithoutcaffeine @tomhollandlol @thefallenbibliophilequote @clumsymandu @hiraethenthusiast @mannien @abrielleholland @evermorehabit @niallberry @greatpizzascissorstaco @runawayolives @annathesillyfriend @letsgotothemoonlight @lovelybarnes
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