#because i was so scared of speaking my mind in front of adults

[2hightocare]

DOWN BAD! 02

Synopsis: Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing.

Pairings: bad boy! jungkook x fem! reader

Genre: friends to lovers. college au. slowburn!

Warnings: angst, drug use, profanity, explicit content, talks about abusive home, fighting, arguing, screaming, crying, flashbacks, oc and jk are nineteen (freshmen’s in uni) mentions of death, daddy/mommy issues.

a/n: GOSHHHHHHH! pray for my girl yn😓😓 she’s down bad and she fr ain’t getting up. Left you guys on a cliffhanger hehe. enjoy🤍🤍

01! playlist

"What do you want?" He says, the smallest glint of amusement on his face has Jungkook's stomach recoiling.

"The regular," Jungkook found himself saying, reaching into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. "I don't have opioids. My supplier said there was a shortage—want to try some new shit?" Yoongi says as he balances his cigarette on his lips, looking into a cabin.

"You've tried snow before, right?" He looks up at Jungkook who stands there. "No, I told you l don't fuck with that shit," Jungkook shakes his head, putting his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans.

"It's on me, just try it," Yoongi hands Jungkook a small bag filled with white powder. "Just snort it and let it do its thing, boy," Yoongi chuckles as he watches Jungkook look down at the drug in his palm. "It won't kill you if that's what you're thinking," he continues, taking a drag from his cigarette before exhaling.

Jungkook's mind immediately goes to you as the words leave Yoongi's mouth.

“You’re going to kill yourself,” you scream, your hands pulling on your hair as Jungkook watches silently—his heart breaking as he sees the tear fall from your eye. Whatever he wants to say stays stuck in his throat.

“I’ll be fine,” Jungkook finds himself muttering, a loud scoff heard from you as you hold his face in your hands, making him look up at you. “Tell me what’s wrong, fuck! I’ll fix it, just tell me,” you cry out. Jungkook watches as your legs give out and you drop to the floor in front of him.

Jungkook feels his stomach drop, his heartbeat stops, and his mind goes blank. He wants to drop to his knees and beg you to not care and run away as far as you can from him, but the selfish part of him wants you to stay.

“Baby,” Jungkook slurs, the drugs in his system not letting him speak normally. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he apologizes again for the hundredth time in the past few days. Jungkook drops beside you, removing your hands from your face as another sob racks through your body. Your eyes red and puffy as tears continue to cascade down.

Jungkook knows nothing about love, but there’s you. The highlight of his days, the only reason he even wants to wake up in the morning.

He hates how he drags you along with him—in every bad decision he makes. Jungkook’s life hasn’t been easy; an abusive household isn’t something anybody wants, but he’s one of the unlucky ones who got it. He knows he’s a legal adult and can move out, but his feet stay glued inside that house because of her, his mom.

God. Jungkook has seen everything fucked up in the piece of shit he calls his house. The blows his mom would take from the man whose blood Jungkook carries. He wasn’t a father to him, that’s for sure. Screams and fighting are the only things his house is filled with. He never heard a bedtime story or got a good night hug. The hug was replaced by a hit on the cheek, jaw, face—or anywhere his dad could get his hands on.

Jungkook blames his dad for the way he is, and every time he looks at you, he imagines the what ifs. Jungkook has done everything he could do to push you away, but instead of leaving, you stayed. It’s scared the shit out of him.

He’s in love with you. Jungkook has never felt anything more in his life than his love for you—it’s almost pathetic how much you make him feel. If your love were a drug, Jungkook would do it every day, every hour, and every minute instead of all the shit he put in his system to forget.

Your love is pure and innocent—everything that Jungkook isn’t. Every time he looks at you, he’s afraid he will break you. He wishes you could realize how unfixable he is and leave—but instead, you’re on your knees begging for him to be better.

How badly did he want to be better; so he could be with you.

“Stop saying sorry and stop doing it, fuck,” you sob, your fist holding onto his hoodie—your knuckles turning white from fear that if you let him go, he’ll vanish.

“You’re better than this. I know you are,” you cry, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, wetting his hoodie with your tears. “Please stop, you could die.” you beg desperately, like a child would.

“Shh,” he comforts, his hand rubbing your back as you sob into him, “I’m sorry.”

As Jungkook walked, the guilt inside him consumed him more and more. The hurt expression on your face after he disrespected you remained etched in his mind, feeling like someone was poking his heart with a needle with each step he took.

Similarly, the weight of the small bag in the pocket of his sweater sent a sense of panic through his body. He hadn’t planned on taking it, but the moment it was placed in his hand, he couldn’t bring himself to give it back. Instead, he bit his tongue and shoved it into his pocket.

His heart sank as an image flashed in his mind of what your reaction would be if you ever found out. With a shake of his head, he buried the thought deep within him before reaching the main door of his house.

Jungkook’s hand trembles as he holds onto the doorknob. He had nowhere else to go, it was either yours or this. He felt his throat close up as his mind went back to you, his heart screaming for you. To turn around and run back to you—like always, his safe space. The only place where he could let his guard down.

The aching sensation in his chest reminded him of the first time he told you about his dad. You were both seventeen—laying on the carpet of your room, staring up at the ceiling. The broken expression on your face after he confided in you made him feel worse than any hit he had ever taken.

“Did you seriously get into another fight?” you groaned as you examined his face, the purple and blue marks beginning to form twisting your stomach in knots. “Who was it this time?” you frowned, your hand reaching out to touch his bruised cheek.

“Didn’t fight anyone. I actually hit myself with the car door,” the lie flowed smoothly out of his mouth.

“A door?” You raised an eyebrow, not fully believing him. Jungkook had a tendency to throw the first punch after someone lightly touched him—he had more suspensions and run ins with the police than anyone could count. Every time you saw him, there was another bruise decorating his skin, always brushed off like it was no big deal.

“Who was it?” You tried again, your face turning to him.

Jungkook's eyes remained locked with the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. “I can’t tell you,” he mumbled softly into the darkness.

“Why not? Is it a secret?” You quipped, scooting closer to his side—your finger tracing his features as he let out a deep breath. “It’s a really big secret,” he hushed, to which you only nodded eagerly.

“I can keep a secret,” you smiled, your heart beating fast in your chest as you noticed the proximity between you two. You raised a pinky into the air. “Pinky promise,” you bit your lip anxiously, watching him interlock his pinky with yours. “Okay, now tell me.”

“My dad,” he said, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“What?” You stuttered out, hoping you had heard him wrong.

“My dad, he's abusive,” he restated. The color drained from your face, and Jungkook saw it.

Sadness written all over your face. Words didn’t come out when you opened your mouth; instead, an ugly cry replaced the words.

“That’s why I can’t stand someone’s hands on me,” Jungkook says, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to escape the pain in his heart. It felt as if he was being kicked and thrown.

“Fuck.. I always touch you,” you bit your lip, trying to contain your sobs. “Your touch is the only touch that doesn’t repulse me, baby. So if you plan on not touching me, don’t,” Jungkook quickly interjected, grabbing your hand and intertwining it with his.

Jungkook loved your touch; your fingers on his skin felt like heaven. It almost confused him how much he looked forward to it—sometimes he found himself initiating it. You were the only exception with such privilege; anyone else who laid a finger on him sent a sense of nausea and shivers down his body.

“I didn’t know. I’m so fucking sorry, baby. Let me help you.. we can tell the police, he deserves to be in jail. Please,” you sobbed, placing your palm on his cheek.

“You think I don’t know he needs to go to jail? For all I know, he should be put on a electric chair,” Jungkook spat out, shoving your hand away from his face.

“And fuck. Yes, my mom knows. She fucking gets hit too,” he rambled, his chest heaving as he tried to look anywhere in your room that wasn’t you, and for the first time, you saw him break down.

As Jungkook crumbled down with a loud sob, his hands cover his face as his shoulders shake as he weeps, you wasted no time dropping to your knees and pulling him into you, whispering reassuring words in his ear.

"She doesn't leave," he cried. "I keep telling her he's going to kill her if she doesn't leave, but she stays." The cracks in his voice mirrored the cracks in your heart as you listened, feeling the weight of his pain, as the double meaning clicks in your head.

"And I can't leave. Who's going to protect her if I'm not there?" he sobbed quietly, his hands tightening around your waist. "I'm scared that if I leave for too long, I'll come back to a house with a dead body in it," he confessed, sending shivers down your spine.

"Baby," you cooed, tears streaming down your cheeks,

"we should tell the police. They'll help you. I promise."

But his response shattered your hopes.

"No," he croaked out, untangling himself from your embrace.

"Listen to me. If you even think about telling a policeman what I just told you, I swear to god yn, I will never fucking forgive you," Jungkook shook, his face contorted with pain and panic.

"I trust you enough to tell you, but I swear if you say anything about this to anyone, we're done. Whatever the fuck we have, it's done. I will never fucking forgive you."

Jungkook pushes the door open, and he’s met with silence. Without thinking twice, he rushes to his mom's room, slamming the door open to be met with her limp body on the bed.

His heart stops beating, and suddenly everything stops—his hand trembles as he makes his way to her. He nudges her once.

“Mom,” Jungkook calls, only to be met with silence.

“Mom,” he tries again. She stirs in her sleep.

“Jungkook?” She croaks, her voice hoarse as she peeks from her lying position. Jungkook's heart picks up again, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Mom, are you okay? What happened?” Jungkook asks, dropping beside her on the bed. His fingers move her dark hair off her face carefully, revealing a bruise on her cheek.

“He hit you again?” Jungkook lets out a growl, his fist tightening beside him.

“I made him mad. It’s not his fault,” she defends, almost automatically making Jungkook scoff. “Mom, that's not an excuse!” He grits his teeth.

“He isn’t a bad man, Jungkook. He's still your father,” she sighs, the look of tiredness clear on her face as she winces when she moves to her side. Jungkook watches dumbfounded.

“You know, you remind me of him,” she shakes out a laugh, the whole sentence feeling like a punch in the stomach for Jungkook. The more he tries to breathe, the more difficult it becomes. “He was just like you, you know? Every time I look at you—it’s like I’m seeing him. He is a good man underneath it all, Jungkook. You have to understand that I could never leave him. I’m in love with him,” she continues, and every word feels like a hit in the gut.

“W-what do you mean.. I’m just like him?” Jungkook stutters, his throat drying up and the familiar feeling of tears picking up in his eyes have him clawing his nails into his palms.

“Do you think when I met your dad, he treated me wrong?” She finally locks eyes with Jungkook. The light in her eyes she once had is now gone, replaced with dull, tired eyes. “He was gentle with me, he was sweet, caring, he was everything to me. He’s still everything to me,” a tear rolls down her cheek, making Jungkook suck in a breath.

“What about me?” Jungkook's voice cracks, the knot in his throat tightening as he watches his mom shake her head.

“Am I not everything to you, Mom?” Another tear falls, followed by more.

“It’s more complicated than you think, Jungkook,” she sighs. Jungkook feels his heart crack into a million pieces as he watches the woman who brought him into this life discard him.

“He’s going to kill you one day,” Jungkook speaks, wiping the tears from his eyes before clearing his voice. “He’s going to kill you, and you’re going to let it happen.”

“He wouldn’t do that to me,” she whispers into the silence.

“He wouldn’t?” A shocked laugh leaves Jungkook's lips as he can’t believe what he just heard. “He fucking wouldn’t? He fucking hits you? Aren’t you fucking scared that one day he throws the wrong punch?” Jungkook shouts, anger taking over.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” she snaps. “I’m your mother, and you don’t get to fucking talk to me like that.”

“Well, you’re a shitty mother. A good mother would put their child first. The only reason I’m still here is because of you!” Jungkook snaps back, his frustration growing stronger as he watches his mom stay motionless.

“I keep coming back because I’m scared he’ll kill you. But apparently, you don’t give a fuck,” he breathes out, his hand tugging on his hair—feeling almost manic at the lack of his mother's reaction.

“Every hit he took on me, you blamed it on me. When all I did was try to protect you. But you always choose him. So fucking next time he comes in through those doors and has his way with you, don’t come running or yelling my name to come and save you,” Jungkook spits out before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.

Jungkook's mind kept racing, never shutting up for a moment, allowing him to think. His brain was filled with repetitions of everything his mom just said. The words "he was just like you, you know? Every time I look at you-it's like I'm seeing him" kept getting repeated in his head over and over again without a break.

Screams of his mom asking for him to save her echoed in his brain, the weight of his guilt and the haunting memories that plagued his mind had Jungkook pulling out the small baggie from his sweater, moving to the small desk in his room.

Jungkook dropped the white powder on the surface, making a line. Without hesitation, Jungkook leaned over, pinching one of his nostrils before snorting.

A sharp burning, stinging sensation spread through Jungkook's nose as he sniffed, rubbing off the remaining powder.

Jungkook dropped onto his bed in a star position as he stared at the ceiling, the feeling of numbness taking over his body. His muscles relaxed as the drug entered his bloodstream, sending a sense of euphoria—a warm feeling spread throughout his body, making him groan in pleasure.

And for once, the voices finally stopped.

It was embarrassing how you found yourself looking for the man you were in love with every corner of the campus. You started with the lockers and hallways, peeking through every classroom, hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the boy who left you standing in your angel costume Saturday night.

You had debated on running after him; the guilt that weighed you down from the slap was intense. Your touch was supposed to be his only gateway, instead, you used it against him to hurt him the same way his dad does. As messed up as his words were, it didn’t compare.

“Have you seen Jungkook?” You ask, poking Dahlia on the shoulder. She turns to look at you, mouth filled with food as she nods without saying anything.

“You have?” Your eyebrow raises as she continues to nod eagerly.

“Y-yeah, he’s ou-outside, in the corner,” Dahlia finally says, swallowing her food. You throw a small ‘thank you’ and rush outside.

As you run to the corner where everybody meets up to smoke, you curse out loud as you trip on the crack of the pavement before changing your pace to walking instead.

Your eyes meet his in an instant as you pass the corner, the lit-up joint hanging from his lips. You look around to see Taehyung and Jimin with worried looks on their faces. As you walk closer to them, Jungkook passes the joint to his friend before crossing his arms in front of him, flexing his muscles. If you weren’t so mad at him, you would find it hot.

“What’s up, pretty,” Taehyung says, trying to break the awkward silence as he takes a hit off the joint before passing it to Jimin, who looks uncomfortable as hell.

“Hey,” you acknowledge them both, giving polite head nods before turning your attention to the boy in the middle, his eyes bloodshot red with a small grin decorating his handsome face.

“What’s so funny?” You snap, crossing your arms in front of you. A loud laugh slips out of his mouth, shocking the boys beside him. “Hi baby,” he says, his eyes dropping low as he moves closer to you. You push him away with a hand on his chest, making him pout.

“Rude,” he playfully scoffs, leaning back onto the wall and reaching for the blunt on Taehyung’s fingers as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“That’s enough,” you say, taking away the joint from Taehyung’s hand as Jungkook was about to reach for it.

“This is our cue to leave. Let’s go,” Taehyung hurries off, pulling on his blonde friends arm, before they both mutter something under their breaths as they disappear around the corner.

“Don’t throw that, it’s some good shit, and I just bought it,” Jungkook chuckles, reaching for it only for you to push him away.

“Alright then,” you pull the rolled-up paper up to your lips and take a drag. Jungkook's face drops, and suddenly nothing is funny. His hand immediately shoots up and yanks the joint out of your mouth before throwing it on the ground and stomping on it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook roars, watching you cough loudly as white smoke rushes out of your mouth.

“Fuck, what were you thinking?” He panics, rubbing a hand over your back to coax your coughing fit. Your throat and chest burn as you continue to cough.

“Don’t ever do that shit again, do you hear me? It’s not good for you,” Jungkook sighs, his rough hand drawing circles down your back as you finally calm down.

“So, you agree it’s not good for you?” You say, your voice hoarse from all the coughing. “Let’s not do this right now, yn,” he pulls on your arm as he walks you to the parking lot. “You never want to do anything,” you yank your arm from his grip. Jungkook takes a deep breath, trying his best not to snap at you.

“Just get in the car, baby,” he continues, opening the passenger door for you. Instead, you push him off and slam the door shut.

“You’re high as fuck; you can’t drive, asshole,” you snap, throwing your arms in the air in anger. “And you’re not?” he clenches his teeth. “I took one hit,” you shove a finger in his face.

“Yeah, a big-ass one. Before you know it, you’ll be high, so get in the fucking car or I’ll put you in it myself,” he snaps. “You wouldn’t dare,” you spit out, and before you know it, your ass is in the air as he hauls you over his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t?” Jungkook mutters under his breath as he opens the car door and sits you down on the seat, reaching for the seatbelt and strapping you in. “Where are you taking me?” You roll your eyes as he sits down beside you.

“To your fucking house,” he says, pulling out of the parking lot of the school and driving you home.

The whole car ride is filled with silence; neither of you decides to utter a word. The moment the car stops in front of your house, you hurriedly unbuckle your seatbelt and open your door before sprinting to your door, unlocking it, and disappearing inside. Jungkook almost screams into his hands, wanting to throw a whole tantrum in this car, but he decides otherwise.

With a loud sigh, he turns off the car, turns to the back seat, gets his sweater, and jumps out of the car. He takes the same route he always did when he showed up at your house, climbing himself over the picket fence before climbing the tree next to your window.

The window is opened as you sit on the ground of your room, your knees up to your chest. Jungkook throws his sweater in first before jumping in.

Then his heart dropped, your small hands hold the tiny bag that was in the pocket of his sweater that had fallen out.

“What’s this, Jungkook?” You voice out, and Jungkook doesn’t miss the wavering of your voice as you finally look up at him. His heart might just have been stabbed by your shocked expression, the betrayal and the pain etched in your expressions send a shooting pain in his heart.

“Baby-“

“Don’t fucking baby me! What the fuck is this?” You interrupt him, your hand shaking as you think of every possible drug that could be in the bag. Jungkook didn’t reply; the words suddenly died in his mouth.

“Is this a way of pushing me away?” You ask, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, mixing with your anger and heartbreak.

“Did something happen at home again? Why? Fuck, why?” You cry, a soul-crushing sob that comes out of you, which has Jungkook coming back to his senses. He feels like shit, and that word doesn’t even cover half of what he’s feeling.

“Please tell me why? I’ll do anything. Let me help you, just fucking stop doing this shit, baby.” You cry, pulling his body to yours, wrapping your arms around his waist, crying into his uniform.

“Use me, scream at me, tell me horrible shit if that helps. Just don’t ever touch any drugs, Jungkook. I don’t know what I would do if you died.” You whisper the last words as you sob into his arms, begging for him to stop. “I’m never leaving your side, so get that into your head. If this is your way of pushing me away, it won’t work.” You sob.

And that’s where everything clicks for Jungkook. His mind thinks back to his mom, “You have to understand that I could never leave him. I’m in love with him,” and his heart drops to the ground. All the walls he took so long to build collapse. He was just like his dad—Jungkook wanted to say he wasn’t, but here he was, hurting you, making you sob into his arms, begging for him to change. The same thing his mom does anytime his father would get drunk.

“I’m not good for you,” Jungkook finally speaks, his hands cupping your face. “I’m not good for you.” He repeats, and you shake your head disapprovingly repeatedly. “Stop.” You cry, your tears wetting Jungkook's palms as he repeats the same thing over again.

“You deserve someone so much fucking better, baby,” Jungkook whispers, dropping his forehead to yours. “You deserve so much better than me. I can’t give you anything, baby, besides heartache and pain.” He continues as you repeat ‘no’ over and over again under your breath.

“Please don’t leave me,” you cry, as he untangles himself from you, pushing your hand away gently when you try to reach for him.

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t leave. Stay the night; we’ll talk about this in the morning.” That was the last thing Jungkook heard as he jumped out of the window and ran to his car, leaving his heart in the hands of the girl crying on the floor, praying for him to be safe.

[daddychi-01]

Batman Headcanon

Give me a 9 or 10-year-old Dick Grayson who has been Robin for a little bit but is still figuring out his relationship with Bruce Wayne. They are more than a guardian and his ward but not quite yet father and son. They both want that but neither of them have gotten up the courage to say it.

Now give me a hostage situation, during some kind of gala or charity event for the school. One where a lot of rich people and their rich kids are present so it’s very important for Bruce and Dick to be selling the whole secret ID thing, so they have to looking just as pathetic and scared as the other people around them.

The bad guys immediately recognize Bruce Wayne and his brat, and they pull Dick away from Bruce. They threaten Dick’s life, saying that Bruce better cooperate or he’ll have to find a new orphan to to take care of, not like it would be a problem since Gotham has so many.

Dick thinks the fear in Bruce’s eyes is an act. That’s not just Bruce after all, it’s Batman. The Dark Knight. He’s literally not allowed to be afraid, so that look can’t be real.

But it is.

Bruce hasn’t been this terrified since the night he lost his parents. His heart is racing and he has to physically push down a panic attack because that isn’t going to save Dick right now. He doesn’t know what to do. He can’t fight these people, not when he is Bruce Wayne. Without the cape and cowl, he has to be a helpless playboy.

So he does the only thing he can think of: he begs.

Bruce Wayne drops to his knees and he pleads with the masked goons to spare Dick’s life. He’s just a boy. A boy who has already lived through enough trauma. Bruce understands if these people hate him and if they want to hurt him instead, that’s fine. But he begs them not to hurt Dick.

He promises to give them anything. They can have his fortune, his life, whatever they want. Just spare Dick. That’s all he asks.

And a masked woman steps forward, leaning down in front of Bruce with what he knows is a sick smirk. The air around them thins and Dick feels himself shiver fifteen feet away. He hadn’t been expecting Bruce to say any of those things. Sure they were close, they had to be as the Dynamic Duo. But he thought after his parents died, there wouldn’t be another adult who would speak about him like that.

That would care enough to swallow their pride and beg, just for him.

Dick’s ears perk up when he hears the woman speak.

“Anything?” She asks. She sounds delighted, almost like she had won some sort of bet at a bar and not that she was leading a hostage situation.

“Anything.” Bruce confirms.

“Okay.” She stands, pointing her gun in Dick’s general direction. “I want your Mommy’s pearls.”

Bruce’s body freezes in shock.

Dick closes his eyes now resigned. Bruce may have been willing to say he would give anything but those were just words. It was one thing to say it, it was entirely different to actually do it. And Martha Wayne’s pearls were too high a price.

Dick can’t blame Bruce either. He imagined being asked to give up his mother’s wedding ring and felt his stomach turn. No, he wouldn’t begrudge Bruce for changing his mind—

“Done.”

Dick’s head shoots up, eyes wide with surprise. He had to have misheard. Bruce didn’t. He wouldn’t…

“Give me a phone. I’ll call my Butler and he will bring them here.”

And Dick cries. Not because someone is holding him hostage, he doesn’t care about that, but because a wave of realization crashes down onto him with an unforgiving strength.

He isn’t an orphan anymore. He has a dad. Bruce loves him.

Bruce ends up calling Alfred and Alfred, being the badass that he is, gives the Gotham PD a heads up but drives there anyway just so he can sucker punch the woman who demanded his late mistress’s pearls just to psychologically torture his son while holding his grandson hostage.

He then takes the pair home. There’s a small tin of cookies in the back for them to share on the drive back.

[rebeliz7]

LITTLE PIECE OF HEAVEN

Natasha Romanoff x Pregnant Reader

Word Count: 1881

Request: Hey! Could you do a Nat fic where reader is pregnant and Natasha is so scared of hurting the baby that they don’t have sex anymore and reader gets frustrated?

Warning: 18+ content - NSFW

“Are you looking for something specific?” A girl no older than twenty three asks you, and you have to admit that the look of utter kindness on her face makes you want to run in the opposite direction. 

You’re an adult for Christ sake, surely you can buy a sex toy without getting flustered like this. 

You smile at her before setting the red dildo back on the stand, and when the thing wiggles you blush a vibrant red, almost matching it. 

���Not really.” You speak, and clear your throat immediately after. God, this is mortifying! “My wife usually does the shopping.”

The girl in front of you nods understandably, and you look down at your feet hoping that the ground would swallow you whole. 

“Don’t worry.” She says, and her voice is quite soothing. You realize that she’s one of those people that makes you feel comfortable and safe, no matter the situation you’re in. “My name is Jane, and I’d be happy to help you find something, if it’s okay with you.”

“Please.” You practically groan, and as she smiles her eyes fall down on your belly for a second, and your hands immediately come to rest on top of it. “I’ll be seven months along next week.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.” She apologizes quickly, and it’s your turn to placate her. 

“Don’t worry. I’ve gotten quite used to it.” You tell her as your baby begins to move, your guess is that she’s turning over. “She’s moving.” You smile, and Jane’s smile is delightful. Even more so when you take her hand, and place it on your belly. Which has become a habit of sorts as of late. Your wife’s friends are always eager to feel your baby moving after all.  

“Oh my God.” She smiles, as your baby kicks and you do too. “That’s amazing.” Jane says, taking her hand back.

“Yeah.” You nod, but the moment you look to your right and find a purple dildo the size of your arm you remember where you are, and why you came here. 

“You and your wife are very lucky.” Jane says, and you huff without really thinking about your answer. 

“I wish I was getting lucky, if you know what I mean.” The moment Jane’s eyes widen you realize what you just said, and you’re back to blushing madly. “I’m so sorry. That was so inappropriate. I don’t even know why I said it. I’m so sorry.”

“You know what?” Jane interrupts you, still cool and collected. “I know just what you need.” She says, and with a grimace you follow her to the back of the store. 

…

The moment you get home you’re a hundred percent ready to break in your new acquisition, and you don’t even feel bad about it. It’s been months since you had a decent orgasm, and you need it, you so need it. 

You have a quick shower, and make sure the cat has food and water before you lock yourself in your room. You turn off your phone so nothing can interrupt you while you do what you have to do. It’s a matter of health at this point, because you’re losing your mind, no question about it. 

First you sit down with your laptop to do a bit of research, and your anxiousness only gets worse the more you read the reviews on your new toy. It seems like you got yourself a very useful item indeed. 

Without waiting another second you go about undressing yourself before opening the box with the new toy in it, and if you’re blushing it’s okay because no one can see you in the privacy of your own bedroom anyway. 

“Okay. Let’s do this.” You murmur as you lay down, and  God you should be ashamed of how wet the sight of it is making you, but you���re not. 

You take a moment to rub it in your hands to warm it up, but the more you rub it the more your mind goes places, and you wish your wife was here. You wish she was kissing your neck, her hands on your breasts, her naked body rubbing against yours…

But Natasha is simply not interested in having sex with you now that you’re showing. 

“Not going there.” You murmur to yourself, because you don’t need to dwell anymore about why she’s so afraid of having sex with you nowadays. You just want to get on with it because on top of everything, it seems like your libido is off the charts too. 

Closing your eyes, you finally let your hand dip down between your legs, your index finger brushing against your already swollen clit. 

“Oh God.” You moan softly, and even more so when you find yourself dripping wet. It’s been months since you had a decent orgasm and that’s all you can think about. 

With your free hand you take the toy between your legs, letting its prominent head rub over your slit before you gently insert it. 

“Oh, God!” You scream, as it rubs you exactly where you need it. You squeeze the sheets with your free hand as your hips push against the mattress, and you push the toy a little deeper. 

With a feral scream ripping through your lips, you come unexpectedly, and so incredibly fast that you immediately throw the damn thing away in fear. 

That thing is surely witchcraft!  

“Oh my God!” You scream in your empty room as the toy hits the floor, and your inner walls continue to shiver, and clench around nothing. “Oh my God!”

Once the force of that first orgasm begins to fade away you realize that in your frenzy you completely relocated to a different part of your bed. And you’re squeezing the living hell out of a pillow but once the surprise, and slight terror of the strength of that orgasm is completely gone you decide that you want more. 

Witchcraft or not. 

…

It’s between your fifth or sixth orgasm that the door to your bedroom is kicked in, and your wife rushes inside with a gun in her hands, and the sight makes you come harder than any of the previous times did. 

“Are you serious?” She half yells at your direction, but not even her anger is enough to wipe the smile off your face right now. 

“I thought you were gonna be late.” You tell her, as your entire body shivers and you finally, set the toy on your nightstand. 

You’ll clean everything up later. God, you’ll clean the entire house later. You’ll cook dinner, and arrange your wedding photo album too. You’ll bake cookies, and go visit your mother too. 

“You weren’t picking up your phone. I thought something happened to you!” Natasha says, as she goes about your bedroom, gun still in her hands, swallowing thickly when her eyes can no longer ignore your naked body.

“Something did.” You smile goofily up at her. “I found the perfect dildo, Nat.” You chuckle, and she sits down on the edge of the bed, her upset slowly turning into amusement. 

“You did, huh?” She asks, eyeing said item on the nightstand as she places her gun next to it. “I can’t believe you went shopping without me.”

“It was either that, or die of sexual frustration.” You point out.

“Come on.” She says as she looks away, and you grab her arm to pull her closer. 

She leans forward willingly, her eyes taking in your chest, your lips, your glistening skin, and a spark runs in between your legs at the sight of her darkening gaze trained on your lips. 

“You don’t think I’m sexually frustrated too?” She asks softly, her hot breath ghosting over your lips as she speaks. “You have no idea of how badly I want to fuck you right now.”

“Why don’t you?” You ask, as you pull her harder, and her full lips finally press against yours in a heated kiss. 

Your breath leaves you when she kisses you like this, forceful and urgent, as if she wants to devour you. As if this is exactly what she wants to be doing now and forever. 

“What if we hurt her?” She asks suddenly, and she’s already pulling back, a deep frown forming on her forehead. “What if something happens?”

“Natasha, stop it.” You order her, and her lips fall shut but the frown on her face doesn’t go away. 

“I just don’t want to hurt her.”

“You’re hurting me!” You pointedly tell her. “I had to go to a sex shop today, on my own. I had to go and get something to masturbate with because my wife is too afraid of hurting our unborn child to even touch me with a ten foot pole.”

“You know I love you.” She tells you, pointedly too. “And I want you. You’re the only person I want to be with but...”

“When you say ‘but’ right there, Nat... fuck! I don’t know what’s wrong with me, or why I’m so horny lately. Maybe it has to do with the pregnancy or something, but damn it! I should be able to count on you. You’re my wife!”

“You can count on me.” She tells you, and you notice the hurt in her voice.

“No, Nat. I had to count on a girl named Jane who recommended I buy a freaking toy, and the reason why you’re seeing me naked right now is because you thought someone was attacking me.”

“That’s not - ” she trails off. 

“That’s what it is.” You tell her, but not unkindly. 

“I want you. I do.” She says as you sit up, and maneuver yourself onto her lap.

“Then show me.”

“Tell me you understand where I’m coming from, please.” She begs as you cup her face, and her hands fall on your waist before she’s touching every inch that she can reach. 

“I do.” You assure her, and not because she needs to hear it but because you really do. You know how fiercely she loves you, and how uncontrollably she desires you. You know because she does show you in so many other ways that aren’t sex. 

“I’m yours. Every part of me is yours. You know that, right?” She pleads to know, and God! You love her so much. Even though she’s denied you sex for the last couple of months, because of a fear that goes way deeper than what she’s letting on. 

“You’re gonna be a great mom, Romanoff.” You grin down at her, and her green eyes spark with joy as her hands pull you harder against her. 

“You just want to get laid.” She teases you, the mood changing once more. 

“Sorry, babe. But you have to know that your mouth, and fingers have nothing on that little piece of heaven.” You tease her right back. 

“Oh, really.” She taunts, and when you reach out to grab the toy from the nightstand she flips you, pinning your hands down on the mattress beneath her. “We’ll see about that.”

Ok, so maybe buying a toy, and using it home alone was part of a very meticulously thought out plan, and maybe that plan worked out perfectly for you.

…

[redfoxwritesstuff]

For Eternity, Chapter 8 (Alastor x Isa)

Alastor x Angel!Wife Oc (Isabel) Rated: Adult - this fic contains content inappropriate for minors. Chapter Warnings: Canon typical discussions of violence and murder

@impulsivethoughtsat2am Was darling enough to beta <3 Many thanks, Dearheart.

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord. And my friend runs a Hazbin Fic Community

Masterlist AO3 KoFi

Warm fingers caressed her thighs, just above her knees as he waited with his breath locked in his chest. Seconds ticked on as he continued to wait, caressing, while she trembled under his touch. There was nothing he wanted more than to chase away the storm he couldn’t read in her eyes. 

“I guess that’s a valid reason to be sent to Hell,” she finally said, hand slipping from where it had rested atop his head to cradle his cheek. “I won’t pretend I understand or that I approve, that it doesn’t scare me-”

“I would have never hurt you,” Alastor was quick to soothe her fears, though he could only hope that it worked, “I would have kept you safe.”

“I believe you,” and she did, though she was terrified of this hidden side of her husband. Her mind struggled to wrap itself around the fact that her husband, soft brown eyes, fluffy hair and radiating kindness in life had been taking lives easily while she slept. Guilt washed over her. She struggled with knowing that because of her inability to bring their child into the world sucessfully, she sentenced not just herself and their child to death but countless physicians and others as he fell into a madness. 

“Why did Vox know you? Why was he so obsessed with you?”

“I’m not anymore innocent here,” Alastor admitted. “Vox and I had been friendly at a time before we had a falling out of sorts. He didn’t take it well. From there, we’ve fought for territory and battled for power.” 

“Territory? Power?” Such politics were not a part of life in Heaven. They were earthly concepts that were left behind. 

“I hold a rather sizeable amount of both, as do he and his cohorts. The logistics don’t matter. It’s not safe for you to be here regardless, my darling. You’d have a target on your back every time you left this hotel without me.”

“I’m not going back,” tears gathered in her eyes, “I worked so hard to get here. I can’t go back, even if they would take me back. I don’t want to.” 

Leaning up, he rose higher on his knees as he pulled her knees apart, slotting his torso between them. His hands inched higher, caressing the exposed skin as he pushed the shorter hem of the front of her dress higher along her thighs. 

“I need you safe,” he said, closing the gap between them more and more with each breath they took. “If you’re there, you’re safe. Tonight, we’ll be together again, if you’ll have me. Then we’ll find a way for you to go back and you’ll never have to think of the sins of your husband again. You can move on.” 

“Would you?” She struggled to speak around her breaking heart. 

“Never,” He admitted, fingers caressing higher. 

She should stop his hands. They were not in private. Someone could come out and her skirt was resting so high on her thighs. She didn’t want to stop his hands, however. It felt good to be caressed by the loving hands of her husband again, even if his hands were now claw tipped and stained black by blood.

“Then why must I?”

“Because I need you to be happy and safe,” she could feel Alastor’s breath on her as he softly spoke, “That’s all I’ve ever needed.” 

“And if I can’t be?” She whispered as his hands reached her hips. She realized, when he had changed her clothes, he hadn’t granted her any undergarments to replace those Valentino dressed her in. The only thing keeping anyone from seeing the exposed skin was his arms and body.

“It’s Heaven,” Alastor was so close now, she struggled to pay attention to his words instead of thinking about what it would be like to kiss his new ever smiling face. “How could you not be happy once you let go of me? Just one more night. That’s all we need. One more night to say goodbye.” 

Alastor looked down as he pulled her hips to the edge of the bench. He wanted to see her, to watch her thighs wrap around his hips as he convinced her, but something that shouldn’t have been on her thighs caught his eyes. 

Yellow and green marking on her skin left by fingertips that didn’t belong to him. The air of seduction shattered as he leaned closer to look at the exposed marks, eyes no longer hot with want. The look had turned cutting and sharp. Green and yellow meant the marks were over a week old. 

“How long have you been here?” He asked, voice sharper. 

“Since the battle. Vox called it an extermination.” She couldn’t meet his eyes, knowing full well what he was looking at.

“These are too old.” He shoved her skirt higher, paying no mind to how he fully exposed her as he searched for more marks. “Vox didn’t do this. This didn’t happen here. What happened? Who did this to you?”

“It’s not-”

He snagged her chin in his fingers, still flaky with dried blood as he forced her to look at him. “What happened?” 

“Adam- the first man, Adam.” She hated the way her eyes welled up again. It seemed too silly to cry so easily while sitting on a bench in hell. “He wanted to court me.” A bitter laugh surprised her as it fell from her lips at the words she picked. “No, he wanted to have me. There was no courting to it. I turned him down, again and again. He-”

The snarl in Alastor’s voice sent a shiver down Isabel’s spine. “Did he force himself upon you?” 

“I swear, I took no one willingly to my bed.” 

“Did he force himself?” The tears that fell from her eyes told him all he needed to know.

Static filled the air as he pulled the skirt of her dress down to her knees and stood to his full, imposing height. While her protests of her innocence and fear of rejection fell from her lips along with the tears from her eyes, he simply held out a hand for her. Rage burned in his red eyes. 

When she failed to take his hand, he leaned down and plucked hers from where she clutched at her chest, pulling her to her feet. She stumbled as he swiftly walked with her down a path leading to what looked to be like trash and ruins. 

“Where are you taking me?” This was the first time Isabel had ever felt fear in Alastor’s presence. Not even as he knelt, head down and confessing to a mountain of bodies staining his hands with blood, had she felt fear of her husband. 

He took her to a wide swath of recently disturbed dirt. Yanking her, pushing her with another hand, he brought her to stand in front of him, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly. 

“What is-” 

Alastor cut her off, “This is where we buried the felled angels from the battle. First, the cannibals stripped the flesh from their bones and took what they wanted. What little was left, we buried here.”

“Cannibals?” She was shaking like a leaf in his arms as his dark words washed over her, spoken softly right into her ear, dripping with pride she recognized from when he’d spoken of his radio show in life. 

“We gathered their weapons, of course, for our future defense- should Heaven wish to send another army. Many exorcists are buried here as well as the commander of their army. My Darling, do you know who the commander was?” 

“Adam,” she breathed his name, emotions warring in her heart. “Did you-?”

“Kill him?” Alastor laughed, “Heavens no, I did battle with him for a time, however. I deeply regret having wasted time playing with him now, knowing that he touched what belongs to me and me alone, without invitation. If I could relive that battle again, I’d take great satisfaction in ending his life painfully slow, ripping his soul from his chest and playing his agonized screams on my broadcasts for anyone who dares to take what belongs to the Radio Demon.” 

“Are you going to hurt me?” Isabel was terrified of voicing the question. He had said he wouldn’t have hurt her in life, but this man was in many ways someone she had never known. Never in her life had she seen Alastor’s mood so volatile. Sure, he had been a bit of a moody man, in his own way, but he generally kept in fairly good spirits. 

“Never.” The venom in his voice seemed to dissipate instantly as he spun her to face him, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her to his chest. “Never will I hurt you.” 

She could feel the pounding of his heart in his chest as she braced her hands against him. A hot breeze kicked up the air, ruffling his hair and her wings. Isabel realized that this was the side of Alastor she had never known in life but had always been there, hidden. This was the man that hunted men and ended their lives for reasons she couldn’t understand. 

This was a man plagued by fickle madness he had somehow kept well hidden during their marriage. What did it say about her? She still loved him, of that she knew even as she struggled to understand what everything meant for her, for them. 

“It appears, however,” Alastor’s tone changed again, returning to the chirpy voice she had known from his broadcasts in life, “I cannot count on Heaven to keep you safe after all. What a shame! And, as you had said, they would likely have not welcomed back an angel who left willingly, anyway. You’ll just have to stay here, with me, after all!” 

It had been what she wanted and now she struggled, unsure and struggling to keep up with his decisions. “Did you enjoy killing them?” Numb lips whispered the words. She was terrified of the potential answer. 

“The angels?” Alastor’s head cocked to the side, an extreme mockery of the way he had a habit of doing so in life, “Oh, very much so! They came to my territory to wreak havoc on what I have built up. I simply cannot have that! Ha! What would papers say!?” 

Had she made a mistake in coming to find him? Was it better to have loved the idea of him while missing the man she had known and at the same time never know? “And before? Before you died?” 

“Oh yes,” Alastor’s smile tamed some, losing the touch of madness. “My little hobby scratched a particular itch, you can say.”

Looking down at her, he took in the fear in her eyes. While death had changed him into a grotesque character of a man, it had been far kinder to his love. He caressed her hair, running the pads of his fingers over her cheek. Flakes of dried blood dotted her skin. 

“Do you wish to leave me?” He asked the question that had been running rampant through his brain, “Now that you know, do you no longer want me? Do you regret waiting for me? Decades spent pining for a monster of a man?” 

As her eyes filled with tears and shuttering breaths puffed from her lungs, he ran his hand down her bare arm and around her waist. The smoothe fabric, warmed by her body, felt good under his hand as he ran it over her lower back, inching up between her wings. 

“Now that your idea of me has been shattered, do you wish to go back and face what heaven may have for you in Adam’s absence? Say something, my Darling.” He pleaded only to continue before she had a chance to. “Perhaps with Adam gone, you’d be safe? How could I ever trust them to protect you though, after they’ve allowed him to lay his hands on you?” 

As he rambled, his hand between her shoulder blades spread, fingers curling into the plush feathers from where the dress buttoned around her wings. 

“Did you kill? Back at the studio, did you kill them? Is that why your hands were bloody? You didn’t just hurt them, did you?” 

“Ha! But of course,” He smoothed down the small feathers that gathered where her wings erupted from her back. “But don’t worry- their death isn’t final. They’ll reform in time.”

“Did you kill Vox?” She didn’t like the man. He had been terrifyingly obsessed with her, but that didn’t mean he needed to die, even if it was temporary. 

“No,” Alastor sighed, “He ran with his cord between his legs before I could do much more than crack his screen. I didn’t wish to leave you, even if you had Angel with you. Would you like me to?” 

“No!” She jerked toward him with the force of her protest.

“Very well.” Alastor said, smoothing his hand over her wings, taking in the feel of the sleek feathers over strong muscle. “So, my dear, now that you’ve given up heaven for me, do you regret it? Was it worth it?”

“Does it matter?” Isabel whispered, “I gave up everything for you, Alastor. I can’t go back. Heaven won’t take me back. I threw their gift away to be with you again. I’m not- I can’t say I’m okay with what you’ve done or still do, but I’m here, with you. I knew if I had to come here to be with you there would be something.” 

Tag List: @preciousbabypeter, @catticora, @alastor-simp, @alastorthirsty, @bufaunfu

[byunpum]

Quiet

Pair: Neteyam X Human-mix (na'vi and human mix)

Warning: Smut, 18+, All the characters are adults, Fem!Masturbation, teasing, semi-public, needy teyam.

Note: This one-shot is written based on the relationship my reader has with neteyam. In my story "experiment 56" I feel it goes very well. If you don't understand some parts or relationship between the characters "READ HERE" the whole story. I know you will like it. Also if you want to learn more about my 'human-mix', you can read more "here".

Request: [anon]Hii! I was wondering if you could write a oneshot with NeteyamxFem!Human!Reader(Smut) and it goes somewhat like Neteyam being Touch starved and just wants to be around reader and it escalates from there?

Avatar masterlist

You were aware of neteyam's growing need. He used to be affectionate with you, but these last few weeks he seemed to be begging for your skin to be on his. Holding you close, pulling you on top of him just so he could bury his face in the crook of your neck, taking in all your scent. Letting out a sigh, which seemed more like a moan. You would just squeeze his arm, giving him a little look. Moving your hips so that you were close to his crotch. Pulling you closer, and leaving kisses on your bare shoulder. He didn't mind being seen, because he made this move in front of his mother. You would pull away a little, you felt a little embarrassed. Neytiri was your mother too, you didn't use to show these actions in front of anyone. Maybe some kisses, and innocent touching. Not that he was practically rubbing himself on your ass, in front of everyone.

This day neteyam was more needy than ever. Having a heated make out session in any corner where he could get you. Rubbing his bulge on your ass, making you sit on his lap. Just so he could feel you, squeezing any part he could get his hands on.

The meal had been delicious, after the problems with the people in the sky, and your kidnapping. Clan life had changed a lot, and mealtimes were taken individually. Everyone was in the family hut. The atmosphere was calm and familiar. You held your son in your arms. Noah't was only a year old, and he was reaching for his father. Stretching out his little arms, but you could tell how distracted neteyam was. Your mate was staring at a fixed point, his tail wagging gently. Even his blinks were slow. He seemed to be concentrating on something, to take his mind off what he really wanted. You touch his shoulder, noticing how he was scared. He looks at you quickly, smiling. "yawne everything alright? Did something happen on the hunt?" you ask, you didn't use to go hunting lately. So you couldn't tell if anything was happening to him. "Mmm no, everything's fine. I-I'm fine" neteyam speaks, you can see that swallowing hard. Now playing with the fingers of his son's hand. "If you need anything or anything is wrong you can tell me" you try to get some kind of information out of him. He laughs, and moves closer to you. Bending a little, to give you a kiss on the forehead. "yawne … I know" you can tell his pupils were dilated.

You feel one of his hands, holding on to one of your thighs. Stroking the skin with his thumb, he turns to face forward again. You decide to let this go. Maybe he was just tired. You move up to his forearm and leave him a small kiss. You hear only a soft 'mmm', and a swaying of his body. His tail curls around your waist, squeezing. After a while, it's time to sleep. As life would have it, you and neteyam were living back in the family hut. Your hut was being repaired due to some problems, so while everything was being fixed you had gone back to live with your parents.

By setting up your hammocks further away from the family group, in some corner of the hut, you wanted to have some privacy. You were grateful that the family hut was spacious. "Mom… are you sure you want to sleep with him?" you ask. Watching as your mom was holding your son. "Yes… he's already asleep. Besides in a couple of days, you guys are going to go back to your hut and I won't have him all the time" neytiri was holding her grandson, while still cuddling him in her arms. "It's okay…but if he acts up" you start to speak, but watch as your father approaches neytiri. " Honey… go and rest" says jake. You watch as your mother takes your son to her hammock, it wasn't the first time they slept with their grandson. Somehow they missed having a baby. All their children were grown, so it was their grandson's turn to be spoiled. You stretch out, relaxed. You needed this space to yourself, so you walk over to where the hammock was that you and Neteyam shared. You saw that he was already lying down. "And noah't?" asks neteyam. "His grandparents stole him" you speak. You see neteyam laugh, he seemed relaxed too. He raised his arm, signaling for you to join him.

Kiri put out the fire that lit the hut, leaving everything in darkness. You climbed into your hammock, lying down right next to Neteyam. He settled down next to you. Hugging your small body, he placed his face on the back of your neck. Your hammock was right next to a small window, where the moonlight came in. You glance around trying to see where your parents were sleeping, but you could barely see them. "yawne… rest" neteyam speaks you could barely understand him. You feel him place a kiss on the back of your neck. So you move closer to neteyam's body, and close your eyes.

You think it had only been about 2 hours, when you feel someone kiss the back of your ear. "Nete…what's wrong?" you speak softly. "Mmm" neteyam purrs, sliding his hands over your hips, pushing his hands forward. You stay quiet, maybe he's asleep and settling in. But when one of his hands, slowly moves from your hips over your stomach, to your chest. Giving your breasts a gentle squeeze. You know he is wide awake. "Neteyam…don't you dare. Not here" you moan, but don't do much.

"Shhhh don't make noise" speaks neteyam softly. Leaving a soft kiss on your shoulder, as he began to grind his hips on your ass. "ma neteyam…someone might" your voice is cut off, the space in the hammock was limited, you could tell it had none. "No..don't worry, I'll be careful" neteyam slides one of his hands from your breasts to your thighs, gently pulling them apart. As he left wet kisses on your neck. You tried to keep up with him, but you were too embarrassed. Your family was in the same room, anyone could get up and see you. But those thoughts are interrupted, when you feel neteyam's hand slowly slide over your cunt. You sigh a little, trying to choke back a moan. Reaching up your arms, to grab a piece of neteyam's hair. Who was very much amused at his work.

Moving his finger lightly over your clit, making gentle circles. While momentarily sliding his fingers over your folds. Opening them, caressing them with his fingers. Enjoying how wet you were getting, with a few simple movements. "yawne…do you know what's wrong with me?" murmurs neteyam, lifting his face to get a better look at you. The man sees how you had your eyes closed, and your mouth a little open. Moving his hips further forward, just to create more pressure on your ass. Causing your pussy to move closer to his hand. "Mmm?" is the only thing that comes out of your mouth, the man chuckles to himself. Repeating the motion, noticing how with each thrust to your ass, you moved your hips to copy his rhythm. "You like to feel Daddy's fingers…touching you, playing with you, don't you?" neteyam purrs in your ear. You bring your hand to your mouth, if anyone wakes up…you're going to die of embarrassment.

Neteyam's cock was already hard enough, so you could feel it rubbing against your back. In one swift movement, the man had released it from his loincloth, letting it rest on the skin of your back. Moving to the rhythm of his thrusts, while neteyam's fingers work wonders on your wet pussy. You try to stop his movements, consciousness is eating at you. Trying to move his hand from your pussy, but it's almost impossible, because you can feel one of his fingers gently entering. Rubbing against your walls, slowly coming out to go back in. "net…" it was a silent whimper, but you feel his lips stick to your ear, biting quickly at the exposed skin. "I want to eat you out…that's all I ask" neteyam says, in a tone of voice that only you can hear.

Removing his hand from your crotch, to take his fingers into his mouth. Wiping away all the cum you had left him. Neteyam makes eye contact, watching as you open your mouth in surprise to stop being touched and for the audacity he was showing at this moment. Neteyam wasn't usually this bold, and even more so if his family was SO close…but he had to be very needy. You turned around, rubbing all over his body as you did so. The only good thing about these hammocks was how close you could be to him, feeling his cock slap against your stomach. Your hands quickly reach for it, pumping it gently as you made eye contact with your mate. Neteyam settles you more on your side, watching you stroking him. Letting himself go, bringing his hands to your hair only to pull you closer and give you a sloppy kiss.

"nete…could we mmm go somewhere else" you speak, lowering your gaze. Watching as his nice cock started to leak little drops of cum, which you take in so you can lubricate the skin. Your hands were small, so this helped even more. Neteyam pressed his face on his forearms, biting into his skin. He was trying to stifle a moan, when he sees how you bring the tip of his cock towards your pussy, pulling your leg up a little, laying it on his thigh. Pushing the fabric of your loincloth with the tip of his cock, just to stroke your folds. "Y/N….I" squeals a little neteyam, enjoying the overstimulation. You knew he was having a hard time, he was so vocal in bed. You bite your lower lip, feeling neteyam's hands tighten on your hips and then on your ass. Trying to seek more friction.

A noise from Kiri's hammock, which was the closest to you, alerts you. Releasing neteyam and managing to settle down to hide all activity. The two of you stand still, praying to eywa that no one had heard you, your hearts were racing. But it was only a false alarm, Kiri had only moved to get comfortable. You give a sigh of reassurance, you were going to look at neteyam. But you can feel how neteyam was already moving, separating his body from you. You watch as he moves down, taking your thighs in the movement, pulling them apart. Nestling his face between your crotch. "Nete…I'm serious, we must stop…we can" you are interrupted, when you feel as in one swift movement. Neteyam's fingers move through the fabric covering your wet pussy, to sink between your folds. Instinctively, you jump your hips, locking your thighs in the process. This doesn't matter to neteyam, stretching himself further. Sucking on your clit, and leaving soft licks all over your cunt.

One of your hands reaches your mouth. This was not the time to let out any moans. You were in a very revealing position. You close your eyes tightly as you feel neteyam's tongue brush and flick your sensitive spot. Raising your hips, to fuck yourself on his face. While he was holding you in place. Neteyam was eating you, as if his life depended on it. Trying to be as quiet as he could, he had wanted to try you for days. But you could barely be together. There was always something separating them. He missed feeling you, smelling you, taste you. Moving his hands over your ass, only to press his face tighter into your pussy. Feeling your hands reach for her braids, squeezing them tightly. "Shit" you whine, a little louder than usual.

Neteyam doesn't stop, but is aware that you should be as quiet as you can. Taking one of his hands off your ass, he brings it over your mouth. But still holding the other one on your ass. He can feel you biting his palm. The vibration of your moans, were being repressed in his hand. As he feels you in an attempt to pull away from him, you pull your leg up. Resting your foot on his shoulder. A big mistake for you, you had given him more space so he could eat you much better. Feeling how everything stretched with this position, letting his tongue reach places that were difficult.

He was holding you back, it was a lot of overstimulation. Neteyam wasn't slowing down the pace of how he was eating you. "Net..mmm" he could barely understand you, feeling your teeth digging deeper into the skin of his hand. He could barely feel the pain this was generating, this very excited by the sight he had. His pretty mate, underneath him…all open for his pleasure. With the rays of the moon, decorating her skin. He himself could feel his cock wrinkling beneath him. He could feel that he could come just by looking at you. He could feel, how your walls were tightening into nothing…as your hips sought more of his movements. Shit…you were so close, he thought to himself. Nibbling on your clit, as he licked with more pressure on your nub.

It wasn't long before he could feel your body jiggling gently. Removing his hand from your ass, now to insert a finger. Moving you quickly, as he reached your height. Listening to your little moans, being interrupted in his hand. As he watches your eyes, meet his. As he takes quick licks, in order to clean everything. Making sure he can take everything from you. After about 40 seconds too long for you, he feels your teeth release his skin. Removing his hand from your mouth, you let your head fall back. Feeling as neteyam slides over your body, to now be on top of you. "Come here" taking your jaw completely, kissing you just so you could taste the flavor of you, on his lips. "You taste better..when it's on me" you could see by the dim light reflecting off your partner's dilated pupils, and the droplets of sweat running down the sides of his face. You pet, his face…watching as he laughs cheekily to himself. "I hate you" you laugh under your breath. "Me too babe…" neteyam takes your hand, leaving a small kiss on your palm.

You feel sorry,noticing your little bites you had left on his skin. "Honey…I'm so sorry" you speak, taking his hand. "Don't worry…that's battle marks" neteyam makes a quick movement, to leave kiss on your belly. This man was telling you something for months and you were ignoring it. You relax for a moment, enjoying the cuddling until you remember. "Nete?" you speak, watching as he climbs up and settles on your chest. Hugging you with his big arms. "Yes?" says Neteyam. "You're not finished?" you say, worriedly. But you hear a giggle, and feel his grip tighten. "mmm I did" says the man humming, as he leaves a few kisses on your skin. "Ahh but" you are a little confused. "Seeing my cute partner…moving, all wet for me…was all I needed. Don't worry, I got what I wanted" you feel him bite playfully at one of your boobs. You laugh, but get more comfortable. You definitely had to make more time for him.

Bonus: In the morning, you could hear everyone slowly getting up. The voices of your parents and Kiri talking in the background. You were relieved that no one had seen or heard your sinful activities with neteyam the night before. Sitting in the hammock, you glance to the side to see neteyam and his son in the distance. You laugh to yourself…he looked more relaxed. You felt calm, stretching all the way out. Raising your arms up, as you looked straight ahead. Standing still.

Lo'ak was there…literally 5 feet away from your shared hammock with neteyam. He had the face of mad humor, you could see the dark circles under his eyes. You put your hands over your mouth, you were dying of embarrassment. "I'm going to take care of your hut myself," says lo'ak, rising from his hammock. Crossing his arms, you could tell how blushing he was. At that moment, neteyam approaches. "Look mom…who got up" speaks neteyam, carrying his son in the air. Noticing your pink face. "yawne…did something happen?" asks neteyam. You turn around, grab noah't and jump out of the hammock. "I told you…lo'ak saw everything.EVERYTHING" you yell a little…walking over to where lo'ak was, you had to apologize to him. Neteyam rolled his shoulders up, chuckling to himself.

[pastelbluecloudy3]

Hello there !!! i hope you’re having a Great time !! I had an idea of a “ hantengu clones x fem!reader “ but as modern au , in which like hantengu is the clones grandfather and sekido is the oldest , karaku the second , aizetsu is the middle , and Urgoi is youngest + zohakuten , in which hantengu owns a flower shop or smth ?? And fem!reader works/help him and she meets zohakuten when he visits hantengu , Fem!reader is sweet and kind and she treats zohakuten as her younger brother and when she meets the other bros they like have a small crush on her ???

[ Sorry this is long :( you don’t have to write it , it’s up to you and as you like !!! :)) ]

𝙸𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚔! 𝙸𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌! 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐!

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚎𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚘 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝙰𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚝𝚜𝚞 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚄𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚒 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚉𝚘𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢.)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐! 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏!!

┈┈••✦♡✦••┈┈

You have been working at a flowershop for a couple of years. You worked for the elderly man named Hantengu since no one else would. They would always find the flowers amazing and very pretty, but they never wanted to work for him. You and your kind soul decided it would be a great idea to help him knowing he can barely move. More and more people saw you working for him so more people decided to come by and most likely say hello or would buy the bouquet.

One day, you were digging the flowers out of the soil to put into a pot when you heard a younger voice. You thought it was a child, but you guys were closed. And the only adult voice you heard was Hantengu's. Since you had a curious mind you got yourself up off of the ground and walked towards the front seeing a small kid who almost looks like Hantengu in a certain way? He turned towards you while looking at you. You looked back at him giving the small kid a soft smile. He looked at you with a sort of suprised yet comforted face. Once Hantengu realized that Zohakuten wasnt looking at him as much he turned around. "Oh yeah... Zohakuten... This is one of my employees. Her name is Y/N..I thought you were gone already y/n?" The elderly man had stated while you were still holding the flower pot."I thought I would stay a little late to help you! Im guessing this is your grandson though Hantengu?" "Yes.. Yes he is.. And hes a little troublemaker. But im taking care of him for only a month because of his parents." You looked at the small figure walk towards you and looking up at you. He has never seen someone work for his grandfather and stayed this long with him. The last time he has seen him was a couple of years ago.

"I am also taking care of his other siblings... And they are very problematic... I'll give you a some days off if you think you can tame them?.. Please..? " Hantengu says in a shivering tone. You hear the nervousness in his tone knowing that his grandkids might be trouble. But not wanting to put anymore pressure on him then what he already has. You decided to take the job! He'll pay you as much as you want. Zohakuten took you because he memorized his way from the flowershop to his home. And once you got there you immediately heard yelling. You should've said no. But you wanted to be nice and help him though. Release some stress and presure to help him! Zohakuten opens the door to 3 guys yelling at eachother. They were siblings.. 4 siblings. The three turning towards you. Sekido. Karaku. And Urogi. They looked at you in shock. But Sekido looked at you and scoffed. " Hey! Who did you bring here?" The one smiling in joy said. You looked at him startled since he was slightly yelling in excitement."You idiot you scared her! What will she think of us now?!" This sibling said in rage. You were about to speak until Zohakuten said something before you. "You fucking idiots she's staying with us because grandpa is getting a break." You we're shocked by this kid's vulgar words at what age? 10? You saw someone coming down the stairs with a little more saddening expression than the rest. You thought he was just sad because of something personal. "Who... Who is this?" his tone sounds very sorrowful. "She's gonna help us Aizetsu. She's helping because Grandpa couldn't take us anymore." He looked at you in some type of confusion before responding."Oh.. " is all he said.

Of course they dont know you so they arent that happy.But you already learned their names throughout the time of them meeting you! You found out Sekido was the oldest. Karaku second oldest. Aizetsu being the middle child. Urogi being the second middle child. Then Zohakuten as the youngest. But.. They were very... Chaotic. You sometimes would refer them as inside out characters because you thought it was pretty much funny! Sekido personally thought it was annoying but he soon grew a liking to it. You all actually ended up watching the movie because they were confused at first. Karaku wouldn't stop talking about it while Urogi thought it was amazing that he was technically the main character. Aizetsu thought it was you mocking him for his sadden expression but after you cleared it up to him he enjoyed it. A little time moved on until all of them told eachother they had some sort of crush on you in the kitchen. You and Zohakuten were watching a show while he had his head laid on your shoulder. He felt comfortable with you. He thinks of you as the nicer big sister he always wanted!

Once you had to leave, the brothers started coming to the flowershop more often and as much as they can because they wanted to see you more. You never thought it would happen but Zohakuten started doing small work in order to help you plant a flower. The 4 older brothers were being a little chaotic but they were behaved. Karaku broke a pot once and had to pay for it. The older brothers started hanging by you and helping you. You thought it was sweet of them! You are starting to have small crush on them. You knew because of the way your heart would beat everytime you would see one of the 4 older brothers. When Zohakuten would be around he would always sit in a corner doing whatever. But still manages to do something once and a while.

You thought maybe they weren't so bad. Just a little out going!

┈┈••✦♡✦••┈┈

𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 💙 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍. 𝙸𝚝𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚒 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑!

[barenecessiteas]

Final Random Sinclair Headcanons Because I Can't Get Them Out Of My Head

Hello my darlings. We've reached the final part of my random headcanons. There's only one person left - you know him, you love him, it's adorable waxy boi Vincent! Again, these are all just random thoughts I had, I don't really write on here much, but these just kept coming to me so I figured I may as well share em. Hope you enjoy!

Vincent Sinclair

If you didn't happen to see this on my last post, I believe Vincent is the younger twin and Bo is the older one. Only apart by seconds for obvious reason, but Bo was technically born first

Even after the separation surgery, baby Vincent had a hard time sleeping unless Bo was with him. Having his literal other half suddenly not be attached anymore took a lot of adjustment for him

He also exclusively sleeps on his right side, or at least with the right side of his face against the pillow. Kinda like a subconscious need to feel something against the skin there since Bo wasn't attached to him anymore

Vincent is actually able to talk, he's just selectively mute. This comes from the abuse he witnessed on Bo by their parents

I kinda touched on this last time, but restraining Bo to the chair every time he "misbehaved" or threw a tantrum really just taught the kids that it wasn't acceptable to express their emotions. So even tho Vincent never actually experienced the same punishment, it scared him to watch that happen to his brother

That's why, in the introduction to the film, you see little Vincent seemingly just ignore Bo while he's strapped into the chair, just quietly eating his cereal and swinging his feet

This is NOT because he didn't care about his brother. He was just scared of getting the same treatment that Bo did. He had the idea that if he behaved in front of his parents, he'd be able to sneak off to comfort Bo later

We all see in the film how he's immediately concerned for Bo when he notices the arrow in his chest. He hates seeing either of his brothers hurt, and he just started feeling more comfortable openly expressing that after their parents were gone

So yes, he can talk, but usually it's not unless he absolutely has to. His voice is often harsh and raspy because of this, but it's still there

I don't see Vincent as the meek, timid, and abused twin like a lot of people do. Bo isn't just his brother, he's Vincent's TWIN brother. He's literally been dealing with Bo since they were in the womb

Vincent is just calmer by nature and it's much harder to actually get him angry. He's learned that Bo says a bunch of shit he doesn't mean when he's angry and it's usually best to just let him cool off on his own. Vincent doesn't take it personally

This doesn't mean they don't fight. It happened more when they were kids, but as fully grown adult men Vincent rarely ever gets so pissed off he actually fights with Bo

I think most people agree on this next part but I'm gonna say it anyway - Vincent started growing his hair out so that he'd have something to hide his face with if he ever needed to take off the mask

Even with that in mind, he's not afraid to throw hands if Bo really manages to piss him off 💀

Like they have gotten into legit brawls and fist fights as children if they got on each other's nerves

He does genuinely like the look of it long now, but it started mostly as a security blanket type thing

Speaking of his hair, his is naturally darker than Bo's, he doesn't dye it or anything. We see in pictures that they were blonde as young kids and their hair got darker as they grew older. Bo's hair just stopped darkening at the dark brown we see him with. Vincent's hair just kept on getting darker

He actually does take pretty good care of his hair. He's not super concerned about it, but he doesn't want it to be a rat's nest either. He makes sure to keep it brushed, washes it regularly, and he's generally good at keeping wax out of it

Vincent wasn't really bullied as much for his mask as most people think he was. The Sinclairs were basically local celebrities, so everyone in town knew who they were. Their birth and separation surgery were announced in the paper too, so everyone kinda knew it was from that

What really bothered him was the pity from other people. Kids could be assholes about it every now and then, sure, but hearing adults whisper about it was what he'd really hate

He got into wax kinda by accident. It was a day while Trudy was working on a new mask for him, he was sitting around watching her. She gave him some extra wax she had lying around to play with

Saying stuff like "poor boy" or "shame he didn't turn out as good looking as his brother" when they thought he wasn't listening. That's what really got to him

Vincent also isn't really shy, he's just introverted. He found that hearing people talk about him and feeling sorry for him behind his back exhausted him, so he really just prefers the company of his family

Trudy and Victor often told the boys old mythology stories at bedtime, so Vincent decided he wanted to make what he thought the monsters and creatures in the stories looked like

Since it was his first time using wax, it was far from perfect, but he'd spent so long watching his mom work on her art that he had an idea of some of the technique

He actually used a spoon to shape the wax for most of it lol

Even for such a young kid, he definitely showed promise. That's when Trudy really started to take him under her wing. She was delighted to be able to bond with one of her boys like that

Vincent always felt a little guilty for having a closer relationship with Trudy because of how she and Victor would treat Bo (and how they'd pay much less attention to Lester). He still loved his parents, but it definitely added a huge guilt complex

That's why he's so concerned about always being there for Bo and Lester to help take care of them. He just tends to let Bo take the initiative in taking care of him and Lester because he knows it makes Bo feel better

Just like Bo, he was taught to play the piano growing up. He's pretty good at it, but he never had the same interest in it that Bo did. He enjoyed listening to music more than playing it

Vincent has a very broad taste in music, he listens to a lot of different genres. Classical music is pretty much exclusively for when he's sculpting or making any form of art in general

It's a habit he picked up from his mother. He finds it less distracting so it helps him concentrate more

Like Bo, he was also very good at sports growing up. Really all of the boys were (Bo was just the most involved in it so he got better than his brothers eventually). He's actually surprisingly active

He tries to take frequent breaks when working with wax, even if it's just for a tiny bit. If he doesn't, his muscles get very sore, making it hard for him to work later on

However, when I say he tries I really mean that he only remembers to take breaks with smaller projects. Bo and Lester (or even Jonesy) usually have to remind him to step away for a bit

Speaking of Jonesy, she is in fact Vincent's dog. Yeah, she's the family dog too, but Vincent is the one who found her and raised her

He was going for a walk in the woods and found Jonesy abandoned as a puppy. Even though she was young she was still much smaller than she should have been. Her mother and litter mates were nowhere to be found

So Vincent gently picks her up and carries her home in the pocket of his hoodie. He stays up all night feeding her and watching over her to make sure she recovers physically

Bo was surprisingly chill with Vincent keeping the puppy. As long as Vincent was responsible for taking care of her, he didn't mind having a dog around

Lester lost his shit when he found out Vincent took in a puppy (in a good way, of course)

Vincent basically treats her like his baby (we stan a girl dad) and takes VERY good care of her. She has a great diet, has constant play sessions, and is overall very well cared for

It bothers him when Lester sneaks her some roadkill meat because he's always scared about Jonesy potentially getting sick

Jonesy also sleeps in Vincent's bed with him and has seen his face more than his actual brothers have. She loves to give him kisses on the scarred side of his face and it makes him melt

When Bo first came up with the idea of killing people to use as a base for Vincent's wax sculptures, he was hesitant. Sure, he knew killing people was wrong, but he was more worried about the danger it could place his brothers in

But once he actually used the first victim as a live "model" of sorts, he was convinced that this was the perfect way to finish his mother's dream. It didn't take him a lot of convincing

His collection of knives are all gifts from Bo and Lester. They'd often either buy them or find them on victims before cleaning them up to give them to vincent

The dual dragon blades are his favorites because it was a combined present from Bo and Lester for Christmas

He has much more morbid curiosity in killing because of his father's work. He found anatomy very interesting (and not to mention useful when it came to sculpting people), so he often takes pictures or videos to use as references when painting or sketching

Alright, we've now reached the end of my insanity. I hope you all enjoyed my silly little writing spree. I may or may not write more Headcanons in the future, idk. We'll see if inspiration ends up striking me lol. But for now, we've finished the Sinclairs. Thanks for reading, my lovelies, and I hope you all have a wonderful day 😘💕

[skazoo]

still do.

↳ choi jongho x f!reader

he couldn't stop loving you, even if he tried. and he did try for some time. it just didn't work.

length. 3.7k

genre. exes (and friends) to lovers, fluff, crack and a sprinkle of inevitable angst (i'm sorry).

warnings/tags. language, mention of death, mention of illness of a loved one, implied depression, .

networks. @kflixnet k-labels

notes. hello with another "this was supposed to be just teeth rotting fluff but somehow turned a little depressing and angsty on its own, i swear i didn't touch anything" do we see a pattern here? bc i do. i offer this lil jongho fic after sm time of absolutely nothing but i've finished my exams literally the other day, (DURING PRIDE MONTH!?!?? unacceptable) hope you like it!!

i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!

(cross-posted on ao3 only)

navigation

it’s a well-known fact —to your friend group, to the employees of the cafè on the way to your apartment, to the old lady that sells flowers at the corner of the big building you work at— that choi jongho not only likes you but he’s irremediably and unequivocally in love with you.

and that is still not right because jongho doesn’t just love you, no, that would be too obvious, too easy. he still loves you. 

if he goes back enough in his memories, jongho could say he’s always loved you.

he’s never been one to believe in love at first sight so when wooyoung drunkenly introduced the two of you at his birthday party, and he found himself unable to breathe let alone speak a coherent sentence to you, he immediately panicked. was he having a heart attack? a stroke? he was healthy, an athlete! how could this be happening to him!? he even made his own doctor hate him with all the panicked questions he asked the poor man on the phone but apparently, all he needed to relatively calm down was wooyoung’s loud laugh as he told him that he simply had a crush on you.

did he have a crush on you? 

you, with your beautiful smile and melodic laugh and sparkling eyes and– okay, yeah. he did have a crush on you but who wouldn’t!?

strong argument indeed, he thought.

that fateful night was only the start of a happiness he didn’t know he was able to experience.

you became friends, then best friends, then something more and then you were kissing, sleeping, and cuddling in bed together, going on cute little dates, and showing more PDA jongho ever imagined doing. 

he thought you were happy with him. navigating life with the same confused curiosity all young adults seem to innately possess.

then something happened that he couldn’t have ever predicted. and not because he wasn’t paying attention to you or because he was slacking off with his boyfriend duties, no. it came as a complete shock to everyone —you included, in a sense— because the signs just weren’t there. 

out of the blue, without notice, you broke up with him. after a year and for reasons that are still beyond his comprehension.

questions thundered into his mind asking why you had come to the heartbreaking decision, why you had sent him a ‘we need to talk’ text at 2am in the morning, and why he’d later found you at the front door of his apartment with tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes, soft whimpers vaguely sounding like ‘sorry’ and ‘it’s not your fault’. 

if he thinks back to that night, jongho gets chills from how scared he was; holding your body to his chest, not knowing what to do or what to say, not knowing who hurt you or why you were hurting.

when he thinks back to that night —something he finds himself doing more often than his heart can take— jongho clearly remembers the silent promise he repeated in his head at least a thousand times after you went back to your apartment. a promise he’s set on keeping.

and it’s for that very promise that he now sits in the crowded cafe downtown, drinking an overrated caramel macchiato and hiding behind a book he has no interest in.

at least it’s what he tells himself. that he came to the same coffee shop you told him you���d be meeting your date at because that’s what friends do. he tells himself he’s wearing a mask and sunglasses inside because he can and will love you platonically if that’s what you need or want. jongho tells himself a lot of things and he hopes he’s strong enough to believe in them in a way that will make them reality sooner or later.

but it’s not like two booths away from him you’re faring any better.

are people outside your friend group really this boring and uninteresting? have men always been this arrogant and full of themselves? was your current ex-boyfriend the exception that proves the incredibly unfair rule? 

when you met jongho you knew you were lucky. hot college athlete with sarcasm to match yours and a badly concealed heart of pure gold? you knew you hit the jackpot. but you weren’t ready to realize that he really was one in a million men that actually put in the effort to go beyond the bare minimum.

why is it, though? 

the question threatens to break loose all the pent-up frustration this date is generously providing you with and you opt to ignore it and hide it in the back of your mind for another occasion. one that includes cheap wine, pizza, and an equally bewildered yunjin sitting on your couch with funny socks and mouth full.

for now, you only limit yourself to throwing a fake smile at the obnoxious man sitting in front of you who’s spent the entirety of this heinous date talking exclusively about himself and his crypto-currency business. 

he’s finishing what you think is a long rant about the stock market when he moves to get up.

you think you’re finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel but he just lets out an annoying chuckle and looks at you with his small and pig-like patronizing eyes. “don’t worry, love. i’m not leaving you i’m just going to ‘powder my nose’, how you girlies say.” he winks and you resist the urge to gag at how… slimy he looks and feels.

as soon as he’s out of sight you let yourself slump on the small table, groaning a bit as you do so.

what were you even thinking? you tell yourself that today is going to be a well-suffered lesson for your future self: no dates with people that quote elon musk as if he’s some kind of greek philosopher.

your hands reach for the phone in your bag on their own. the last message you received was a sarcastic ‘have fun’ from wooyoung in the group chat but other than that everything is quiet, seemingly wanting to punish you for going against your friends’ advice to bail on the guy as soon as you saw him treat the barista like shit.

under the group chat, jongho’s name glares at you. 

you would be lying if you said out loud that this date didn’t have the sole purpose of distracting you from the claustrophobic guilt you’re feeling lately. 

jongho had never really cried in front of you but you swear if you could you’d erase the image of his damp eyes looking at you with confusion on that ugly night. and if you have to be honest you’d erase the encouraging but strained smiles he gives you now that you’re back at being friends too, because they don’t do anything but make you feel a shittier person than you already think you are. but maybe you deserve it. maybe this is finally going to be the occasion in which you understand that your actions have consequences.

your fingers work quicker than your brain can catch up, and before you realize it, you open again the conversation with jongho that ended before you went out and start typing.

> you: wyd?

> jjong: you’re on a date

> jjong: focus

> you: what is this an exam?

> you: nevermind this was a bad idea…

> jjong: texting me or the date?

> you: shut up

> you: the date 

> jjong: aw i’m sorry i could have told you that like,, an hour ago

> jjong: oh wait 

> jjong: i did!

another groan leaves your lips, only this time laced with a small chuckle at his antics. you mark the message as seen and throw your phone back into the bag. 

you hope other people can't see how much you miss him.

while you’re too focused on burning holes in the bathroom door from how hard you’re staring at it, dreading the moment it will open to reveal your current problem, in the loud noise of the cafe you don’t hear the heavy stomps of someone approaching you from behind. 

only when you feel two warm hands plant themselves on your shoulders and you hear a familiar voice muttering to itself something that sounds like ‘found you’, you’re forced out of your angry trance state and you’re asked to quickly choose between either your fight or flight instincts. you throw a blind punch and the person creeping up on you folds into two.

but that’s on him because who creeps on someone sitting alone at a table and touches them without making themselves known? what happened to ‘hello, what a coincidence to see you here’? what happened to manners?

you snap your head to the figure behind you and you let your panic subside but your annoyance rises.

“how– what are you doing here!?” your words come out in a hiss that makes the old couple sitting in the booth behind you turn around and look at you with judgy eyes but that doesn’t affect jongho in the slightest.

“saving you? duh.”

“who asked you that?!”

“what– Y/N, you texted me even before you met the guy, may i add. and the message said: ‘please end my suffering.’ in my book that’s a cry for help!”

he’s right but you let out an affronted huff anyway. arms crossed and lips in a pout you know is childish. “whatever.”

you feel him staring at you with a raised eyebrow and a smug smirk that you, oh so badly want to wipe off his face. 

“what?” you spat. your tone more embarrassed than you’d like to let on.

“what, what?”

“what the fuck are you smiling for?”

he throws his arms in the air exasperatedly. “am i not allowed to be happy now?”

“of course you are, it’s just… you being happy,” you air-quote to punctuate your suspicions on his current joyous disposition. “usually means wooyoung fell or someone got hurt.”

he laughs. “do you think so lowly of me, Y/N?”

“shut up.” the napkin you’ve been fidgeting with because of the irrational panic rising in your guts is now messily crumpled on the table and you groan at the whole situation. head in your hands and eyes closed. you’re so bad at this.

what happened to moving on? what happened to leaving jongho alone because he doesn’t deserve someone treating him like shit? you broke up with him supposedly to save him, but, not even three months in, and now that your mind is clearer you think it’s okay to want him back? to feel full again every time you talk about the things you did together and bask in the silence that follows with a warm knowing smile? you think it’s good to let your eyes wander to his face when you know he’s not looking, falling in love all over again? to feel your face involuntary stretch into a smile every time you spot him waiting for you outside work?

whatever your fucking problem is, you’re scared that you’ll come to find out its only solution is the person you fought so hard to push away. because what if you managed to scare away the last source of happiness you had? it’s selfish, you know, but it’s also the only thing you can think about as he looms over you; body so dangerously close to yours that you can catch the flowery perfume he always wears.

you think he’s speaking to you because his big hand is outstretched in your direction and his eyes are looking at you expectantly, with a veiled urgency.

“sorry, what?”

“i said get up and let’s go.”

“go where exactly?”

he rolls his eyes and you keep to yourself the striking resemblance he has with a spoiled child right at this moment.

“c’mon, we’re living this tinder nightmare here.”

“oh, are we?” you ask equal parts amused and curious of where this little skit of his is going.

when his deadpan expression doesn’t shift into one of his gummy smiles at your slightly annoying antics you know something impulsive and possibly embarrassing is about to happen and you know you will be the only person who will have any sort of unnecessary remorse out of the two of you.

your hands fly to your parted mouth and you hiss at him again. “are you serious!?”

he smiles.

“jongho, no.”

jongho yes, the mischievous look he throws you seems to proudly announce. 

he checks the toilet door one last time before gently grabbing your arm and not-so-gently yanking you out of the booth. a surprised squeal leaves your mouth but not a word of protest is heard from you.

“oh my god, i’m really doing this.”

his eyes are set on the door and he speaks without looking at you. “doing what?” 

“leaving someone like that while they’re in the bathroom! that’s so… i don’t know jjong, that’s so rude!”

you see his shoulder shake and you know if he were to face you right now you’d see one of his shit-eating grins. what you can’t imagine is the softness in his eyes as you call him with your nickname for him. he missed it. he misses you. painfully, completely, constantly.

his wide strides are followed by your frantic steps as he maneuvers the two of you out of the door and into the busy downtown street.

“so what? do you wanna go back in there and risk being bored to death by a guy that’s not even a quarter of what you deserve?”

“wha– no! i just–”

“then why should you feel sorry for that sad excuse of a date, uh? like, really, he took you to the most overrated place he could think of, Y/N. he didn’t even know you don’t like coffee!”

you chuckle at the frown of deep offense that blooms on his face. his lips in an affronted pout. “but that’s what the date is for, jjong. he couldn’t have possibly known.”

he stops in his tracks when he’s far away enough from the crowd in line waiting to be granted entrance to the place you just left. 

“i do, though.” an imperceptible strain to his voice as his eyes search yours in a way that’s almost desperate. “i know you don’t like coffee and that you like to sleep on the right side of the bed and that you just have to sing that ridiculous song to tie your shoes because otherwise, for some inexplicable reason i still have to understand, you can’t.”

has the world around you stopped? your ears are ringing from the deafening silence and you feel like everyone around you has stopped breathing and is waiting for you to say something to the boy in front of you who stares you down in determined distress.

“i know you, Y/N.”

you know he deserves an explanation. him more than anyone in your life. him more than yourself, even. jongho with his proverbial patience that let you cry and consoled you the whole night even after you’d told him you were breaking up with him. jongho that didn’t push or torment you with questions the days after. jongho who accepted —maybe in pure and raw self-preservation— to go back to being just friends, with tears in his eyes and a smile on his lips because that’s what you’d told him you needed at that moment. his kindness that, more often than not, you’re convinced you don’t deserve.

“i know.” you close on yourself, your arms coming to hug you tight so that he can’t see the cracks that constantly try to spread over your skin. “i know you do.” an imperceptible whisper that threatens to drown in the buzz of the busy city around you.

“then why?” his eyes are pleading and his voice is quiet when he speaks again. 

“i know i should give you time and i know you’ll tell me one day but please–” he gulps down a lump that you know he’s had for at least three months. one of worry, confusion, and guilt. one you know you gave him.

“–please, give me something. anything.”

silence.

“Y/N, please say someth–”

“my mother was sick, jongho. she still is.” the line you’ve dreaded crossing for so long is no longer a line. the wall that’s been standing in between you and everyone else now has a hole in it. 

“i was out of my mind just from the news of her condition, i– i wasn’t well mentally and physically just from that and i saw time slip through my fingers, felt every single second like a punch to the guts. i threw away all the clocks in my mother’s house, i started sleeping on the floor outside her bedroom, i– the week i told you i was busy with deadlines, we were still together, remember?” he nods, small but it’s there.

 “i spent those days obsessing over something that was not yet real. my brother had to slip me sleeping pills to let me close my eyes for even a second.” your voice cracks because the guilt you get from just looking at jongho always has to be added to the guilt you feel when seonghwa kindly asks you how you’re doing lately.

“i-i was a mess just from that and i didn’t want you to be with me when what i was scared of was going to finally become a reality. i didn’t want you to see me like that because i didn’t think it was what you deserved. and you may be unable to understand and yell at me that it had to be your choice and not mine but i still don’t think that what i did was wrong, i’m sorry.”

the apology floats in the air between you. it’s not articulate or rich but it’s the only one you can get out at the moment.

“my psychologist says– he says i’m doing better now. we agree that the worst is over but there’s this…  unknown that hangs over my head and every second that passes i don’t know if this guillotine will cut my head off or miss me by a hair.”

he just looks at you with that unreadable expression that scares you.

“i didn’t– i don’t want to go back to when the worst wasn’t over and i’m scared that if i give myself back to you i will take you down with me one way or the other.”

you don’t know what you expect him to say or do after you just vomited everything you’re constantly trying to keep hidden, on him, but his loud silence is starting to feel too heavy, unsettling.

he doesn’t feel present, his eyes unfocused and unblinking. 

he shakes his head as if to wake up from a trance and looks at you with eyes too full of love. no pity in them and you want to thank him for it.

“ba– Y/N why didn’t you tell me?”

the simple question throws you off. 

why did you do the things you did? 

why does anyone do things?

you want to cry and tell him that not everything has an explanation. not a logical one anyways.

“i don’t know, okay! i wasn’t sure how you felt! god, i didn’t know how i felt and–”

“how could i have ever felt!? we were together for more than a year, Y/N. i loved you. i still do.”

“w-what?”

he lets out a chuckle that is not mocking or mean or condescending, not one you would’ve expected from anyone else. it’s kind and soft and a little bit amused, much to your irritation.  “do you find it surprising?” 

you open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it. 

“i am in love with you, have been since the moment i saw you at that stupid party and when you told me you had to break up with me i just– Y/N, i couldn’t let you go or stop loving you, even if i tried. and believe me, i did try for some time, but it just didn’t work.” 

with tears clouding your vision you’re surprised you manage to find the time or strength to tease him. “you tried?”

and apparently, it is those two words that make him break out of the containment chamber he’s forcing himself to be trapped in. he smashes through the protective glass in true jongho fashion. a well-placed punch and the chains that kept him away from you thinking that’s what you needed, dissolve into thin air as he closes the distance, messily rushing to you and caging you in a desperate hug that steals the air from your lungs. 

you feel his hands claw at the back of your shirt and it’s the heartbreaking and deep affection that allows you to accept that you’re not difficult and you will not be. not to him, not to the people that love you.

he buries his nose in your hair, breathing you in like he wants to absorb you forever, then everything that happens next goes naturally, smoothly, following a line that was always supposed to be the one and only.

it fits perfectly. when you kiss and it's like the universe, your friend group, the employees of the cafè on the way to your apartment, the old lady that sells flowers at the corner of the big building you work at, knew it was meant to be.

you both stand with your eyes closed, embracing each other.

he wants to be a person who deserves you and whom you deserve. jongho loves you and he wants to be there, picking up your pieces, putting you together like a puzzle, taking his time. 

you sniff, looking up at him with what you hope looks like a soft expression and not some sort of a pained smile. “hi.”

“hey.” he smiles back, thumbs caressing away stray tears.

“you know that i saw you sitting there the second i stepped foot into the coffee shop. 

“you did not.”

“you were reading the book upside-down.”

he blushes but his arms tightens around you.

“i was not.”

[pomplalamoose]

Master Luke Skywalker headcanons🩵✨

In my other headcanon posts I already mentioned a few ideas of mine of Luke as Master Skywalker (find a summary of them here) but I wanted to do an extra post because I have a ✨thing✨ for authority figures

• I'm totally biased in saying so but in my opinion Luke would be (or is) a great Jedi Master 

• he's kind, empathetic and patient; in my opinion the most important traits to have as a teacher 

• his own Jedi education isn't as long ago as it would have been if he had grown up in the Jedi temple, so I think he's easily able to put himself back into the shoes of a Padawan

• especially if some of his students are quick tempered, impulsive and easily frustrated when they don't progress as fast as they'd like to, just like he once was 

• he is able to successfully handle a wild assortment of personalities, finding ways to engage a rambunctious crowd just as well as the shy and more withdrawn individuals 

• likewise he matches his behavior accordingly 

• he's very well attuned to his surroundings, good at reading the room and deciding whether a more strict or calming approach is necessary

• he is stern when he needs to be, although I don't think he particularly likes it 

• he doesn't want to raise his voice either and I don't think he has to often except to get his student's attention from time to time

• just like in other parts of his life he always wants to understand why there is a conflict in the first place and will gladly act as negotiator if it means resolving a fight 

• or avoid having to take more drastic measures 

• if he gets angry though even the birds fall quiet

• it's like the life gets sucked out of everything 

• I said before that making him angry is not easy, so congrats to anyone who manages and also my serious condolences 

• even then he won't grow unrestrained though

• he'd never expose or punish someone in front of others

• he'll remain fair and will ask the person or group responsible to have a private conversation with him 

• that's what's so absolutely terrifying though

• his quiet anger is worse than if he'd just scream at them instead

• I don't think that anyone would be able to get used to this, not with how slowly and silently his anger approaches 

• you don't see it coming until it's too late 

• those who end up alone in that room with him never speak of it

• you see them leave looking pallid, many with tear stained faces 

• they never act up again after that

• of course rumours are going wild, the theories about what happened are endless

• yet everyone is too scared to find out for themselves and very happy to stay in their Master's good graces 

• he takes time to get to know every one of his Padawans very well and thus can tell what they might need from him at any given moment or in specific situations 

• do they need a compliment, so as not to loose faith in themselves? 

• a little joke and a gentle smile to lighten the mood? 

• reassurance to ease their mind? 

• maybe a little motivational speech?

• a pat on the back?

• or a hug?

• carefully voiced questions about their well being; do they need anything? Someone to talk to?

• do they need a break, some time for themselves?

• an offer to repeat any exercise after the official lessons of the day are done?

• a tease or a little bet to rouse their fighting spirit?

• a stern reprimand?

• a time out?

• generally I see him slightly differentiating not only in his demeanor towards the children, the teenagers and the young adults but in the way he structures their varying lessons as well

• he allows himself to be more relaxed and laid back with the kids 

• he wants them to feel safe and at home, so he makes sure they see him as a kind of parental figure in addition to being their teacher 

• also I think he'd teach them about the Force and their connection to it in a way that comes natural to them

• many children don't have a long attention span yet, so it's important to be engaging and let them have fun too

• I see Luke trying to keep his inputs short and simple to then make them discover what they just learned in a game themselves 

• like for example: being able to reach out, to feel the Force and all living beings surrounding you doesn't sound as cool as "learning a new trick to beat everyone else at hide and seek"

• likewise he wouldn't jump straight into meditation with them

• you can't force a child to meditate when it fails to sit still for longer than two minutes 

• Luke is aware this would only lead to them viewing meditation as negative, maybe even something alike to a punishment 

• so to avoid that I see him introducing it in a slow and careful way 

• like telling them stories that get increasingly longer over time 

• or making them color in pictures 

• really, any activity that includes mindfulness in some way is a welcome strategy 

• I think he'd be more strict with the teenagers and young adults 

• many of them haven't been with him since they were little and often need firm guidelines 

• not necessarily because any of them are especially rebellious or going through a phase™ but because it's easier to adapt to a new way of life with set rules 

• Luke knows that some of them come from a difficult background or had a hard journey to find him, so he wants to give them clear framework conditions to work with 

• a daily routine leaves less room for uncertainties and lends a sense of safety 

• still he welcomes a more personal approach in their shared free time if they are comfortable with it

• he's very interested to hear about their former lifes

• about their interest and hobbies

• their favorite dishes 

• the customs of their people

• their friends and family 

• and their favorite music 

• he'll share stories of his own as well, often involving his own struggles as a Padawan 

• nobody is supposed to feel like an outcast or a special case because they're older or somehow "different" from the others 

• still they are more prone to giving him an attitude than the kids are and Luke definitely isn't above paying them right back 

• he leans towards Yoda in that aspect; his patience may seem endless but if he can have some fun as well, he'll take the chance 

• repeating phrases that used to drive him mad when he was younger is his favorite thing to resort to

• the best example for that is probably "Don't try. Do!"

• alternatively he likes to come up with ridiculous sayings or advices that make no sense at all

• if someone is especially annoying he'll make them mediate in stupid positions, claiming that this particular pose is immensely important for their development

• even if someone should realize what's going on they don't have any prove to go by, so who are they to deny their Master?

• Luke thinks it's hilarious 

• I don't think it's uncommon for his students to be very intimidated by Luke though

• some of the newly arrived may even fear him 

• while he's beloved as a person and greatly admired for his skills, nobody can quite forget who it is they're living and sharing their meals with 

• especially those who haven't been around him for long yet and can't quite believe that, he too, is really just some dude 

• of course he's not just some dude but I feel like that's what Luke would like to be perceived as 

• to him it's important to be approachable no matter the circumstances

• he wants everyone to know he's always there to help and not just a teacher but a friend as well 

• the children don't struggle with this as much as his other students 

• everyone enjoys spending time with him but then he has these moments where he doesn't seem fully human anymore 

• his eyes are just a tad too bright, too piercing

• they see more than just his immediate surroundings

• when he looks at you it's either like he doesn't see you at all or too much, like illuminating even the last corners of your very being and turning you inside out 

• he's eerily quiet and his presence a mystery 

• not even the best of his students are able to sense him in the Force when he closes himself off

• he could be standing right in front of you and you wouldn't notice if that's what he wants 

• likewise his Force signature is often overwhelming for those still inexperienced

• often he appears out of thin air like a spectre and vanishes just the same 

• he senses whenever he's needed and will let himself be found but nobody knows where he goes to and what he does when alone 

• does he even sleep? 

• are we sure he's really eating and drinking or is that an illusion?

• seeing him tired or crumpled is such a rarety that nobody can remember if it ever happened before

• he doesn't always react the way one would expect him to

• sometimes he's smiling to himself, like he's listening in to someone not visible to everyone else 

• on some occasions his students find him unresponsive for hours 

• is his body still inhabitated? Where did his mind go?

• he never shows any signs of exertion 

• he always looks impeccable no matter the weather and circumstances 

• he seems to simply exist beyond external influences 

Quick authors note before we continue: 

I see Luke as a very responsible and trustworthy person and don't think he'd actually pursue one of his students in a romantic or sexual way; he's aware of the power imbalance and probably not comfortable with it.

While I'm sure there are some mutual attraction situations from time to time, he doesn't act on his feelings.

HOWEVER let's be really delusional and ignore that 

• Luke is usually very direct but in this case I'm sure he'd take his time 

• having a passing fancy is nothing out of the ordinary and he will make sure he's genuinely interested in you before risking to overstep his line as a teacher 

• even then he'd proceed with utmost care

• he does not want to make you uncomfortable in any way and should he find that you don't return his feelings, he'll withdraw immediately

• so he'll carefully start testing how far he can go and observe your respective reactions closely��

• to everyone else this won't seem suspicious at all 

• Luke often takes one or two of his students under his wing to keep them close by when he believes some extra support is needed 

• his innocent touches will linger a little bit longer than necessary though

• your shared eye contact, even during short conversations, is strangely intense 

• his smile suddenly more inviting 

• he often offers you his hand now

• it seems that his attention is always on you 

• are you imagining things?

• of course Luke would never invade your privacy to a point where he'd take a look inside your mind 

• he picks up on clues otherwise 

• for example, if he notices you are growing nervous or flustered around him more easily than usual, he'll take that as a good sign 

• he'll find reasons to ask for your opinion or makes up tasks that require you to help him

• he's adamant about you having one-on-one lessons with him 

• he's very aware of the effect he has on you and likes to tease mercilessly

• he'll lean down to whisper in your ear, reveling in the way it makes you shiver 

• will he outright tell you about his feelings though?

• I don't think so

• this last step he will leave up to you 

• it's important to him that it's what you want too

• he'll definitely continue to flirt but if you don't confront him about it, he won't go any further than that 

[cerealboxlore]

imagine billy having an identity reveal (probably not willingly) and some league members being assholes about it

billy’s just taking everything for a while until they throw jabs at the tiger plushy he’s holding, because that’s his friend

so he throws tawny at the member who insulted tawnys honour and that member doesn’t think to dodge because it’s a plush thrown by a malnourished little kid, but just before it hits tawny transforms into a giant tiger

i imagine that tawny wouldn’t hurt anyone too bad to not upset billy but the league learns their lesson

This ask has been painting such an awesome scene in my mind and has never left it once, thank you so much for sending this ask!

I can imagine Billy having his identity revealed being an extreme invasion of his privacy and unwanted, but to the league it would represent a huge dramatic event. After sending in what is one of their most powerful powerhouses into battle constantly against foes that rival gods and monsters who eat gods for breakfast, the reveal of that teammate being just a child would shake them to their core.

Captain Marvel being revealed as a child would absolutely make them extremely upset, rightfully, at that. Having to sit him down during a meeting as plain old Billy Batson, to confront him for all the lies of omissions and deceptions with a heavy heart is one thing, but to look at the blue eyed, malnourished child in the eyes and see him holding a stuffed animal tightly would tear them apart.

Billy would understandably be nervous at the whole mind breaking event going on, having summoned Tawky Tawny for emotional support to get him through this chaotic meeting going from talking softly to him to interrogating him. After all, a secret as big as this being exposed would lead to a long meeting being held about his future status on the JL.

Still, no one is outright mad at him. Upset and heartbroken, but no one has made him cry yet. That's good. That's great. Billy was now seen as a child in their eyes, he didn't need any more help on that. He could get through this.

That's when it happens. Someone crosses the line. Billy was defending himself as Captain Marvel aka The Champion of Magic, making his statement that he was more than mature and responsible to handle the burdens he carried so often.

"Ha! Are you shitting me? Listen, kid, we've been here for hours. Let me tell you this. Mature people don't go hugging a stuffed animal when they're about to cry. For fucks sake, what is that anyway? A cat? You can't go hugging that thing when you're out in a battle! Look. I'm not mad at you, no one is mad at you, but I'm going to say it. No one. Can trust you now. Never again. If you think you have a future on the league with that dumb stuffed cat in your arms, you're so grounded-"

"....er..."

"Huh? Kid. Speak up. Don't mumble when you're speaking to an adult."

"I said. He. Is. A. TIGER!"

Before anyone can react or think, the stuffed tiger in Billy's arms begins to stretch and grow, leaping out of his arms and pouncing onto the man. The sudden presence of a growling and gigantic tiger in front of the league startles everybody, to the point no one notices that Billy was currently wiping away the tears that were flowing down his face.

Tawny would have detected that Billy was feeling unsafe and anxious, not wanting to hurt the man in any way, just scare him enough to stop making his friend cry. Whatever happens afterwards is a mystery, but some say....that the league member who made Billy cry that day developed a fear of tigers 🐅

I absolutely adored this idea you sent in! It's helping me through my writer's block right now!

[deadandwalking]

INFO ON MY FREQUENT FRONTERS!!

general headspace info and a dictionary below the cut!!

also tw for s/a mentions

@lukewarmsoapytoast @spiderplnt

Angel - 14 years old (regressor), signs with 🪽

does not care what pronouns you use, we generally use he/him

fictive of The Creature - APCollection and Offenderman - Creepypasta

front triggered by: Slenderman, religious stuff, high stress situations

need to know: Angel is under the impression that Slenderman is his father, typically refers to him as ‘Vati’, and can be heavily upset if he feels his father is being mistreated. the easiest way to not trigger him is to speak respectfully of and avoiding mentioning Slenderman where possible. Angel also has a very unstable personality- he can be shy and quiet one front and a boisterous obnoxious asshole the next.

Fen - 19 years old, signs with 🪽🥀

he/they

fictive of Offenderman - Creepypasta

front triggered by: Danger, anger, or heightened paranoia

need to know: Fen is heavily separated from source and being compared to it can be super triggering for him. he does however have exomemories from his source. he’s sex-repulsed due to source but can hear about it, just doesn’t like talking about it himself.

Offy - undetermined age, adult, signs with 💐

he/it

fictive of Offenderman - Creepypasta

front triggered by: Having to argue with an adult, splits, and Angel getting triggered

need to know: Offy is the only one of my three Offender fictives that doesn’t source separate. he knows who he is and frankly doesn’t care. he doesn’t approve of his actions in source though. he can handle hate well enough but if it starts to affect Fen he’ll argue to defend them both. he’s overprotective of both Fen and Angel since he considers them his brother and nephew

HABIT - 15-17 years old (slight age slider), signs with 🔪

he/they/it and a bunch of WOKE pronouns (blood/knife/rabbit/trial/decay)

fictive of Habit - EverymanHYBRID

front triggered by: Angel getting upset, rabbits or knives, talking about his source

need to know: HABIT loves his source but is not source-compliant himself. he has memories of some parts of emh but doesn’t feel like it was him. he’s just a little dogboy here <3 also he’s in a relationship with Angel. they’re officially just boyfriends but they call eachother husband (aww). he’s generally quite hyper but it’s hard to tell because he has a typing quirk where he writes in all caps.

Evan - age undetermined, around late 20s to mid 30s, signs with ☠️

he/him

fictive of Evan Myers - EverymanHYBRID

front triggered by: the body not being fed/hydrated/well rested

need to know: Evan is very source compliant if we just focus on the first few episodes. he’s traumatised from his source but working on it, HABIT helps him a surprising amount. he thinks of HABIT like a little brother even if he’s still a little bit scared of him

Jimmy - 40 years old, signs with 🐎

he/him

fictive of Jimmy Zare - Mouthwashing

front triggered by: no known triggers, fronts to take strain off others (usually me or Fen)

need to know: Jimmy is mostly source compliant, but feels a lot more regret for his actions that canonical Jimmy. he HATES people calling him all those dumb J names (j-diddy, jisappointment, jexual jassualt etc) but doesn’t mind all the bland ones like Jim, Jimbo, etc

Grey - 23 years old, signs with 📗

she/her

octive of Grey Zare - Jimmy’s daughter, Mouthwashing

front triggered by: Jimmy fronting or getting triggered

need to know: Grey is #1 Jimmy defender and has the WORST “i can fix him” complex ever. unfortunately she will not respond well to Jimmy hate so she’s not allowed on social media without at LEAST 2 others in co-front

Manasses - somewhere in his 40s, signs with 🔲

he/it

original alter

front triggered by: depression spirals, uncomfortable online interactions

need to know: BAD MAN!!! BAD!!!!!! he can be nice, but do NOT be his friend. he has assaulted me multiple times in the headspace and shows absolutely no regret, even going as far as to say i deserved it. holds my fps against me, shames me for being s/a’d, just bad overall.

General info

our system is called the Dark Novella system, but i more commonly refer to it as “the headspace”. we use the collective pronouns they/it and are still deciding on a collective name.

we use the terms headspace/system and headmate/alter interchangeably, so any is fine!

we are high switching, when one person fronts it often takes a while to get me back. we forced mechanical fronts for a while and it damaged us so our natural fronting is a little rusty :(

we consider eachother family ^^

our headcount is pretty high but generally it’s the same few people fronting. our frequent fronters change every now and again.

Dictionary

fictive - an alter that takes the form of a fictional character for any reason - usually comfort, due to a hyperfixation or because the alter’s role/job/purpose is similar to the character in some way

front triggered - something good, bad or neutral that will throw us into a certain mindset that causes an alter to come out, or that an alter believes is their thing to deal with/do/whatever is relevant

source - source is whatever an introject comes from. for example, a fictive’s source will be the book/movie/show they’re from. an octive’s source will be the story they’re from, and a songtive’s source will be the song/album they formed because of

exomemories - exomemories are memories that a fictive has from their source that never actually happened. when a fictive has memories of their past that is actually just the lore to their source, it’s an exomemory.

octive - an octive is an alter that takes the form of a character the host or another alter made up

[traumagenic-positivity]

i don't want to ramble here about the specific events so please just know that a crowd of people , including other systems , and multiple medical professionals agree with me on this experience —

i was in a very abusive relationship last year and my ex knew i had DID and expressed consistent jealousy about it , such as complaining that he was not ' abused hard enough ' to get alters like i was . i tried to be supportive of him as he started to ask more questions in case he might share the experience . but he continuously told me he did not match any of the criteria . he had no memory loss ( and would prove this , and make fun of mine ) and did not appear to have any alters , and said this himself . but eventually he split his ' first alter ' ( as he said . keep in mind we were both adults ) and it was an alter that held his abusive and ( severely ) violent urges and actions . and then he would blame his abuse of me on that alter , because he wouldn't do that , but [alter] would . he was fully aware of everything this alter did though . outside of that he also would publicly have this alter do things that announced to me based on info he gave me specifically that they were fronting , while ignoring me privately , so that i would scramble to try and help him before he acted on his urges to our friends , as he would blame me for this . i also found out he did similar things years back ( claiming to have amnesia whenever anyone called him on anything to evade responsibility , despite not claiming to have amnesia other times and being very clear to me as an adult that he has never had any amnesia , even when i explain different kinds of amnesia and amnesia covering up itself ; claiming to suddenly split alters of people's favourite characters when they started to get distant from him after his maltreatment of them to try and get them to keep talking to him ; etc . notably , these alters would vanish once that person actually stopped talking to him . )

it has been a very difficult situation to work through because it has left me with an underlying fear around other systems ... i do not truly believe anyone is faking it like this , but i am always kind of scared , and feel hesitant to get to know other systems personally . i just feel really guilty about it . i love my fellow systems . before all of this i did not even question anyone's word because i felt it did more damage to question people than to leave them be . it took me half a year to even examine any of these behaviours because i wanted to give the benefit of the doubt ; i only started questioning it once others stated similar experiences and contradictory claims from him . i still don't question anyone and keep these thoughts to myself , but i'm really upset that this has tainted my perception of others and made me afraid to speak with people who understand my experiences . i just feel really bad about it . i don't want to doubt anyone and i don't act on any fears . i want to see the best in people idk </3 🍂🦌

that sounds so hard, nonnie :< I promise none of us here will judge you for that! it can take a while to get past something like that!! take all the time you need! I promise this account will always welcome you with open arms <3

[peydawgz]

Only in Your Dreams || Sigma x Reader || Soulmate AU

// TW: nightmares, sedation, gun threats

//I wrote this at 2am while I’m at work on my phone. Idk why I’m motivated but I am, and I usually write on my laptop so I’m sorry for any typos/autocorrect confusion and I’m also pretty sure this is hot garbage because I’m sleep deprived. Eat up, my wonderful readers !!

You were told when you were a teenager, that one day you will meet your soulmate in a dream. One day you are destined to meet in the real world, but predetermined factors allowed for you to communicate with the help of the universe.

At first, you feared you didn’t have a soulmate, as nothing surprising happened in your dreams, if you had them at all. “You’ll know when it happens. The universe likes to take its time…” your caregiver told you when you were 17, and some of your friends had already met their soulmates by this time!

You went on into adulthood, doing your own thing, working at your job and doing your usual routine. When you fell asleep on your couch, something in the stars was settled, and your soulmate must have been finally assigned, because you saw him.

You were wrapped in a tornado of some sorts, what looked like office supplies and science devices flew all around the room. In the eye of the storm, an adult man was in the bomb position, his hands over his ears and hunched over on his knees. The closer you crawled to him, the louder this disorienting music started to play. This must have been his nightmare. You try to call out to him, but nothing comes out. Stupid dreams, can’t even use your motor functions. Your heart was racing as your thoughts went back to the fact that you were seeing your actual soulmate for the first time. You place a hand on his back, and you can feel him shuddering- it was so real.

When he looks up to you, you see his eyes are like a husky’s; bright blue and sharp. His nose protrudes in the most handsome way, and his eyebrows are lifted, as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Your dream has stopped, and you woke up, dazed on your couch. You sat up quickly, trying hard to imagine his face in your head. You didn’t even know his name yet, but he was perfect.

You were eager to fall asleep again, to be able to intercept his dream and lay with him. You wanted it to be real, and to be able to speak to him. You almost couldn’t sleep from the excitement.

This time, the dream was more… painful. You were in the darkness, walking through a tunnel to a light, hanging from a cord that you could see just in front of you. You could hear someone’s voice, but it was not the man in your dreams. It was a woman. “Siebren… You’re going mad. I’m afraid you’re going to have to be sedated for you’re own good.” You we’re able to see him laid on a table in a straight jacket, and what looked like a muzzle over his face. He was squirming away from a needle that a red-haired woman held at his face. “Gravity is not yours to control anymore” she wickedly smirked, a substance oozing from the needle. You quickly ran into action, trying to save him from his nightmare. Siebren… was that his name? You were able to slap the needle from her hands, and she disappeared into a purple warp. Your breathing was heavy, going into protective mode for your soulmate. You looked down at his scared, confused face, and you tried to put the prices together of what the woman had said. You tried to unwrap him from his straight jacket but nothing you tried in the dream would work, so you fell to the side of the table, hugging him and trying to assure his nightmare would no longer bother him. He seemed more… comforted.

The dreams you had with Siebren were almost always nightmares. He was in a cell, in a hospital, in a whirlwind of gravity, loud classical music torturing his mind at all times. You were there for him, to chase away his fears and hold him. But then he started to intercept your dreams.

You were being chased by a giant dog, representing how you often procrastinate your real problems and run away from them, and you were being terrorized by the loud barks coming from behind you. Suddenly, you ran straight into Siebren, who was looking much different than your previous dreams. He wasn’t in such an upset state, nor was he wearing a muzzle or being bounded by something. He looked… powerful. You threw your arms around him, and that horrifying music actually started to sound calming for once. The giant dog was bounding towards you, and you clutched him. He began to rise from the ground, floating above you and rising the dog with him with his fingers, before throwing it far out into the outlands of your dream world.

The most recent dream almost felt… too real. You must be close to actually meeting your soulmate, you figured. You were sleeping in your bed, and then suddenly you found yourself laying in a beautiful sun, and sand beneath you. You basked, jumping into the blue ocean and splashing around with everything in your little imagination. This was more of a fantasy than a dream , and Siebren had suddenly rose from the water, joining you. He smiled to you, and embraced you before playfully rising his hand and manipulating the waves to splash you. You had a little sand fight, and played around on the graceful beach together, until you both laid onto the bed of sand and embraced each other. “I can’t wait to meet you” you heard his voice for the first time, and it shocked you. He had a cute accent, and also- you hadn’t been able to speak in your dreams up until now. “I hope we can be together soon, Siebren.” You said back to him. He blushed at the sound of his name coming through your lips. “I’m sorry… but I don’t know your name, my love.” He stroked your hair, looking deep into your eyes. “Y/N.” You whispered to him, and your dream began to fade away as you awoke from your slumber.

You went about the following days unable to sleep much, worrying about Siebren, and also feeling worthless at your job. You left late at night, and you had to walk home because the bus didn’t run late. It was cold outside, and you could hear rioting in the streets behind you. The war of humans and omnics was a horrible time to live in, considering the company you work for specialized in omnic parts and replacements. Through customer service you learned omnics are not as bad as the world makes them out to be, and stayed out of the bad parts of town due to the rioting.

However, nothing you could do could avoid this very scenario happening. The whole reason your dreams appeared to you, all fell down to this single point in time.

You were looking up at the sky, admiring the stars on your way home. The wind blew your hair around and made you shiver, holding your arms to your chest to create warmth. You were overworked, angry that you had stayed overtime to finish a project. You almost always finished your work on time, but something today was just creating a wall for you that you couldn’t overcome. You were hungry, and desperately trudged through the whipping winds around you, street lights flickering. You didn’t hear a single thing, before suddenly you tripped over something and onto your face. You heard a laugh from behind you, and then suddenly in front of you. You looked in the direction, but you saw nothing. You could hear a female voice, but you couldn’t spot where it was coming from. “Heard you were working for the exact corporation Im on a mission to hack~” she purred in your ear. “You must be valuable, I bet you know all the ins and outs.” She cooed, and you caught a glimpse of a purple blur in the corner of your eye. “Are we gonna play nice or are we gonna have to do it the hard way, chico?” You were watching her flicker around you, and suddenly you stuck your foot out and tripped her, giving her a taste of her own medicine. When she fell, she came out of her invisible-mode and you saw her angry face, and also the hun that was in her hand. “Oh you’re gonna get it now!” She started to run after you, but you already bolted off towards your home, trying to avoid her. You looked behind you, and you couldn’t see anything, so you either lost her or she was invisible again, but you just kept running. “I need some backup over here” you heard her voice from somewhere behind you. You turned a corner, and found yourself in a dead end alleyway, pressed against the wall, hoping she’d pass by you.

You heard a click, and suddenly she appeared in front of you. “Baby, you’re gonna be dead in 2 seconds if you don’t-“ she had the gun up to your head, and you were frozen, just staring foreword and trying not to cry out of fear for your life.

Another figure slowly floated into the alleyway, and he suddenly shoved her aside, “SOMBRA, NEIN!” His deep voice halted her, and she now sat up against the other side of the alley. It was dark, and you could really only see his silhouette, but this man felt so… familiar. His voice, his figure, you recognized him. A bursting feeling pounded in your chest, and you felt magnetized to the floating man. “Siebren?” You weeped, moving towards him. “I didn’t know it was you, Y/N Mijn liefje. I’m sorry, I would never let anybody hurt you. het spijt me.” He wrapped his arms around you, and it felt right. You truly did feel safe. Sombra looked between the two of you, a little weirded out, and then darted off in another direction.

“I’m here for you now. Thank you for being there for me, when I needed you. I have never been able to sleep with my nightmares, but you made them all go away.” He kissed your forehead, showing his appreciation. “…And you can call me Sigma, if you wish. I’m part of a team and everybody mostly calls me this.” He took your hand in his. “Okay, Sigma. Would you mind escorting me home?” You kissed the tip of his nose, your lips warming up his face. “Of course I will.” He took your arm in his and you let him stay over.

Sigma was very cuddly with you, and you assumed he was touch-starved from his time spent alone or in asylums. When you asked about the music, he seemed a little comforted to know that you could hear it too when you connected to his dreams. You kept him distracted from it when you were together, his happiness drowning it out. He likes to lift you with his gravity manipulation and dance with you.

Also he shows you his gravity balls :) and they’re pretty neat

[tessatales]

The Sins of the Winter Soldier Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Notes: slow burn romance

Warnings: none really, hinted past issues with reader?

Authors note: Hey guys! If anyone has a better idea for the fic name please drop them below! Honestly pulled this title out my butt and I don’t really like it. But it’s better than ‘Bucky fic’ so at this point I can’t complain 🤷🏻‍♀️

Enjoy!

Chapter 1:

You wake up to the unnerving sound of silence.

The compound was silent.

In the year since being rescued, and the six months since you'd been moved into the avengers tower, you were pretty sure it had never been silent.

Feeling the familiar sensation of dread creeping in, you sit up, thankful for falling asleep fully clothed.

Slipping on a pair of trainers, you padded out into the empty corridors, your steps silent as you listened out for signs of life.

Biting down on the inside of your cheek as you walked, you tried your best to remember what your therapist said about dealing with panic.

"Remember Y/N, your emotions are currently directly linked to your power. Panic equals power surge"

"Good morning Y/N" Agent Peters said as she appeared from around the corner, her eyes trained on the communicator in her hands.

Relief floods your body as she approached, making you feel a little light headed.

"Morning, where is everyone?" You ask, hoping the shakiness you feel doesn't portray in your voice. Agent Peters doesn't stop, continuing on her way through the building as she speaks.

"They're all in the Pit"

The Pit?

There was only two reasons they'd all be there, and as you haven't been shipped off somewhere in the middle of the night because Hydra had found you, it will be the second option.

They've caught someone.

-------------

"Who do we have?" You ask breathlessly as you make your way to the front of the observation deck, only to be held back by several pairs of hands.

"Are you out of your mind Y/N? Who told you we were here?" Tony demanded through gritted teeth. The panic in his gaze obvious. Sensing you were about to get Agent Peters in trouble, you decided to be vague.

"Just some Shield Agent I passed in the corridor, I got scared when I couldn't find anyone so they told me you guys were down here" You reply sheepishly, hating having to admit as a grown adult that you were afraid. The remaining hands drop from where they held you, one or two squeezing you affectionately before doing so.

"Sorry kid, we didn't think about what it would be like for you to wake up and find no one, but this stuff is sensitive." Steve said, making his way to stand in front of you.

"Is it bad?" You ask, anxious to know whos down in containment.

"He wasn't when I knew him. But that was a long time ago now"

"You've caught the Winter Soldier?" You gasp. Steve nodded.

"Though I knew him as Bucky"

Gesturing for you to follow, Steve made his way towards the edge of the deck.

"It took the Big Guy removing his robotic arm to detain him. But we did it.” Tony said over his shoulder as he worked on the holograms in front of him.

“Found him in Siberia." Steve continued as he lent against the railings above the Pit. You hovered just a step away from it, scared of what you'd see when you peered over.

"Don't worry, he cant see you from here" Natasha said, coming to place her hand reassuringly on your shoulder. With a nod, you stepped forward, holding your breath as the Pit came into view.

The man you could see below didn't look like a deadly assassin. He didn't really look real. You'd seen the affects the serum had on people, you'd read every file you could on Steve and everyone else on the team since arriving at the compound. But this man looked different.

He stood motionless in the middle of the shielded cell, his body perfectly placed for any oncoming threat. He seemed to lean heavily to one side as if unsure how to balance himself without his metal arm, and even from this height you could see the angry red scars that wound around what remained of the metal appendage.

"He looks sad" You mutter, staring down a the Winters Soldiers profile.

"That's one way to look at it, I think he looks damn angry" Sam said, crossing his arms as he leaned over to take a look.

"You’re bitter because of the car thing" Tony commented, his eye never leaving the hologram before him.

"And you wouldn't be?" Sam countered, eyebrow raised in question. Tony didn’t reply.

"What are you going to do with him?" You ask no one in particular, barely managing to tear your eyes away to look at Steve when you get no response.

"Tony and Bruce are looking into the arm, making sure there's no trackers imbedded in it. While the Shield team are convinced that the longer he is away from Hydra, the more likely it will be for us to be able to deprogram him." Steve replied as he moved away from the edge.

You felt the surprise flood your body at the decision.

"They're not going to try to use him?" You half whisper. Steve shook his head but said nothing.

"Not like this.” Natasha answered for him, looking between you and Steve.

“Once upon a time, Bucky was one of us. Shield hope that if they can get him back to pre-programmed Bucky, he might offer his skills willingly." Steve said, his gaze unfocused as he looked down at his friend.

"But what if he doesn't?" You say with a frown, looking again at the man in the cell.

"If he doesn't, he'll be free to go wherever he likes. Hydra and Shield free" Steve said, a hint of a smile on his face. Although he was trying to hide it, you could hear the bittersweetness in his voice as he thought about it. Because if Bucky said no and left, he’d be leaving Steve behind.

"You'd get your best friend back" You say with a small smile, trying your best to pull him out of his melancholy thoughts as you hugged him around the middle.

"I would" Steve said with a laugh, hugging you back.

"Until that day however, we’re going to have to ask you to stay away from here." Nat said as you pulled away from Steve, turning you by the shoulders. You felt yourself pout.

"Why? Surely him being locked down there can’t affect me?" You ask with only a little annoyance evident in your voice.

"We don't know. All Hydra know about you so far is that we have you. The last thing we wanna do is broadcast your whereabouts via their deadliest asset." Natasha continued turning you to face the rest of the team. Scanning the teams faces, you could see they all felt the same.

"Here, stayed up to finish it when I found out they were bringing him here" Bruce chimed in, handing you your very on comm bracelet.

"This way you can talk to any of us whenever you need to without having to come down here." Nat said with a smile.

"Don't worry, I’ll stay away. This is the longest I’ve stayed in one place. I'm not jeopardizing that." You reply, slapping the bracelet on and looking at everyone. This was your new family. You weren't going to mess that up.

A/N: Chapter 2 can be found here

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

Whump Meme

"Stop crying and listen to me,"

Sooo you let me choose a character (which was hard because I'm not the imaginative type, you know!) and... for whatever reason, I chose Omega from The Bad Batch. So here's my small contribution, thanks a lot for the ask! If anybody still wants to do this, here's the whump meme (pleeeeease give me a pairing or a character, I'm so lost!) 😂

......

"Stop crying and listen to me."

There’s something in the man's voice that makes Omega look up. Something familiar. His words are firm, but almost any adult would speak like that; above all, they contain a certain authority. The man doesn't look like a soldier, but looks can be deceiving, especially in these times.

"I didn't cry," she says, wiping her face fleetingly with her hand. 

It's not a genuine lie. It's okay not to always tell the whole truth. Tactical. She clings to this thought, because it connects her to her past, to something she wants to return to. Someone, rather. The thought stings, but it also causes a warm feeling in her stomach. How peculiar. Omega doesn’t dwell on her train of thought. Times are hard on everyone, and she can do this. She will survive.

"That's alright," the stranger replies, "you must be scared. I'm sure you've been separated from your parents."

She looks up at the man, thinking, if you only knew. But then again... what is clone force 99 if not the closest to Omega's abstract idea of parents? She takes a deep breath. This man only wants to help, and that is rare in these times. In all the chaos around her, fire and screams and blood and rubble, she just seems like a frightened child. And maybe there actually was a weak moment. Not because of the attack that hit this planet out of the blue and abruptly interrupted her search for information, for answers, for the possible whereabouts of her unit. 

She has been alone for weeks, separated from her friends, her family, her bad batch. Now they carry this designation like an award, and Omega is one of them, and she’s proud of it. Whatever her purpose was, and it was probably not a good thing, is forgotten, because together they all make it a good thing.   The thought almost makes her eyes moist again. Almost. But it's good if the man in front of her, holding out a hand - she must have fallen during the last impact - thinks she's a child. Harmless. 

Omega takes the man’s hand, thanks him and looks around. Chaos everywhere. Perhaps there will soon be nothing and no one left here, and her search will come to another dead end, but that can't stop her. It must not. The pit of her stomach burns, but that's not fear. It must not.

"Where do you belong?" asks the stranger. 

His question is innocent, but is he harmless? Omega can't trust anyone, not even the kindness of a stranger. That's what Hunter would advise her to do. Echo would suggest gathering all the facts, Tech would agree with him, and Wrecker... well, he'd say that if nothing else helps, you can always shoot your way out. Or punch, Omega thinks, because she doesn't have a gun. 

And Crosshair... Most of all, and this is surprising, it hurts to think of Crosshair. He has made his decision, and so must Omega. But that doesn't mean she has to forget him. Because Crosshair, that much is clear, would have some very specific advice for her. 

Follow your orders.

Omega straightens and smiles at the man, a shaky little smile, but a genuine one. 

Trust no one. Follow your orders.

"Oh, but my family is back there," she says with convincing astonishment. 

She feels a little sorry for the man, because maybe, just maybe, he really is just being friendly. Really just someone who wants to help another person in need. Omega keeps that in mind, because she knows compassion is another thing that sets her apart from the ordinary clones, and that's important.

But now she enthusiastically points to a group of chalactans frantically turning a corner just a few blocks away. People are running everywhere, and only now does Omega hear the sirens. An opportunity, that's all she can think about. 

The man looks skeptically in the direction indicated, and Omega doesn't want to give him time to realize that she doesn't really look like a chalactan. She jumps up, she runs; briefly turns around and shouts a cheerful "Thank you". Her legs are often faster than her mind, but it usually works. Five streets and a pile of rubble that she has to laboriously climb over later, Omega turns around. There is no one to look out for her; she is just a child wandering around aimlessly like everyone else trying to get to safety. 

There is no safety, there’s only the Empire, and they’re still looking for her. It’s a crushing thought for somebody so small, an overwhelming thought causing a searing behind her eyes. She’s alone, and that’s a burden for most people. 

Only that Omega isn’t most people.

Fear can be transformed into determination. Another lesson from her friends. Omega looks at the smoldering wreckage all around, and the noise and screams and wailing of the sirens become quiet inside her. She looks up at the smoke-filled sky with dry eyes.

Follow your orders, she thinks. There is no one who can command her now, and there is no command. There is only Omega, and she gives herself an order. 

Find them.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

To Keep Fighting Epilogue

Part One Part Two

@estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @wonderland-girl143-blog

A FEW MONTHS LATER. . .

It was still a long road ahead, but Hawkins was slowly recovering. The physical scars were healing, but it would take a lot longer for the others to heal, and some may never. To go through something as horrible as they did, one couldn't expect to come out the other end the same. . .

"Eddie, what did I say about narrating at three in the morning?" Steve asked sleepily.

"I am also journaling, Stevie, and it's supposed to be therapeutic," Eddie said.

"And you can't do it without the narration?" He asked sleepily.

"Nope!" Eddie said cheerfully.

"You should come back to bed. I'm a little cold, and the Buckleys are coming over for breakfast in the morning," Steve said.

"In a minute, dear," Eddie said as he scribbled away. "Hey, have you noticed that Robin's parents and your parents are spending a lot of time together?"

"What are you implying?" He asked.

"You know what I'm implying, baby," Eddie said. "Now, hold onto your boxers. I'll be there in a minute."

"Hmm, let's get rid of these. Oops, I seem to have lost my boxers, and there's nothing between me and these sheets. I also, I seem to have a little problem. I guess I can take care of it myself. . .," Steve said.

"I'm still a vampire. . .blah, blah, blah! Okay, done!" Eddie slammed the journal closed and pounced on the bed. "Precious blood bag, naked you are very."

"Please, tell me that you are not going to speak like Yoda while you fuck me back to sleep?" Steve asked and Eddie grinned. "Your accent is terrible."

The next morning, Steve and Eddie woke up early. Steve, who didn't mind waking up so early, was grinning. Meanwhile, Eddie was scowling and mumbling under his breath as he leaned heavily against Steve while they walked downstairs.

"Steve, why did you let me stay up so late?" Eddie grumbled.

"I told you to get some sleep. Don't make me slap you," Steve said.

"I'll just have Hopper arrest you for domestic abuse. We have an in, I used to sell him weed," Eddie said.

"Yeah, right," Steve said, slapping him on his ass.

"I'm awake," Eddie jolted up.

They stumbled into the kitchen to find John and Maggie moving about the room, already preparing breakfast.

"You need any help?" Steve asked.

"No, thank you, love. We figured we'd cook and then leave the cleaning up to you kids," Maggie said.

"Seems fair," Eddie yawned.

Steve pulled up a chair and smiled when Eddie plopped down in his lap.

"Besides, it looks like your boy there might need some extra sleep," John said in amusement. "He's looking a little dead."

"He is not a morning person," Steve said fondly as he rubbed his back.

Eddie slumped down and buried his face into Steve’s neck.

"It's too early to mock me," he mumbled.

"You two are rather adorable," Maggie laughed.

"I think you might be a little biased there, Maggie. You did make the very lap that I'm sitting in," Eddie said, lifting his head.

"I didn't make you, dear, and I still think you're very adorable," Maggie said, pinching his cheek.

"I think I'm going to need more convincing, Mags, if you want me to be your son in law," Eddie said, smirking, and she laughed.

Moments later, the Buckleys entered the kitchen with Robin bouncing in front of her parents. She bounded over to Steve and Eddie while her parents greeted the older adults.

"Oh, Steve, you have something on your lap!" Robin exclaimed.

"What is it?!" Eddie shrieked and jumped off his boyfriend's lap.

"Oh, it was just a metalhead vampire. It's gone now, though," Robin said.

"Oh, very funny, Buckley," Eddie hissed, baring his fangs at her.

"Ooh, I'm scared," Robin said, deadpan. "I'm shaking."

"Steve, tell her how scary I am," Eddie said.

"You're very scary, baby," Steve said, and Eddie preened proudly.

"Told ya," Eddie said.

"Breakfast is done. Robin, go set the table," Melissa Buckley told her.

"Why me?" Robin asked.

"Because you're being a menace," Richard told his daughter.

Once they settled down to breakfast, Steve made note of his parents' interactions with Robin's, trying to see what Eddie saw. He did notice that they seemed more inclined to talk with each other than the three young adults. Melissa seemed to make sure that she was always touching his mother's arm. Richard, meanwhile, seemed to pat John's shoulder, letting it linger longer than necessary. He also seemed to lean in to his father's space a lot. Steve shook his head. No, he didn't see what Eddie was talking about.

"I don't get it, Eddie," Steve said.

Breakfast was now over. The parental units had retired to the living while the others cleaned up in the kitchen.

"Get what?" Robin asked as she dried a dish.

"Early this morning, he said something about how our parents are spending a lot of time together," Steve said. "I still don't get what he meant."

"Come on, Stevie," Eddie grinned, tilting his head at him.

"Oh my god!" Robin gasped.

"Someone gets it!" Eddie exclaimed.

"I didn't tell you yet, but I came out to my parents. They were perfectly fine with it, and guess why?" Robin asked.

"Because they love you?" Steve questioned.

"No! Well, yes. Apparently, I just missed it because, of course, I did. Before they got together, they dated other people. My mom's ex was named Alex, and my dad's ex was named Jamie. They didn't use any pronouns. How was I supposed to know that Alex was a woman and Jamie was a man? Apparently, they've always been very open about their sexuality and I just didn't pay attention very well. Also, they told me that they're open to polygamy. . .if they met the right couple!" Robin exclaimed. "Oh my god!"

"Oh my god!" Steve exclaimed. "Do you know what this means?"

"That there's a lot more queer people in this town than we thought?" Robin asked and Eddie snorted.

"No! I mean, yes, that too. If this works out, not only are we going to be sort of siblings, but we're going to have four parents!" Steve exclaimed, grinning.

"Well, five, if you illegally marry me, then you get Uncle Wayne too," Eddie winked at Steve.

"You didn't count the other parents that we also have," Robin said.

"Oh. Yeah. Sue, Charles, Claudia, Joyce, and Hopper," Steve said. "How many is that? Ten! That's ten!"

"You're not going to count the Wheelers?" Eddie asked.

"Their daughter is his ex-girlfriend. Plus, Ted, blaugh!" Robin exclaimed, making a gagging noise.

"Our family is not only large but a weird mixture of people," Eddie laughed. "I love it!"

"There is one thing that we all have in common. . . We're all freaks!" Robin exclaimed, and they all laughed. "Thank God!"

"What are you guys laughing about?" John asked as the other three parents followed behind him.

"We're just laughing at our ever expanding family," Robin said, grinning.

"Edward. . .," John said, his voice deep with a warning tone.

Eddie blinked at him. John had never spoken to him like that.

". . .Did you get my son pregnant?"

"What?! No!" Eddie yelped and then turned to Steve. "I didn't, did I?"

"What?! No! Eddie, we're both guys!" Steve exclaimed.

"Well, I don't know, Steve! I'm a vampire! Our town almost got swallowed up by an evil wizard! Anything's possible!" Eddie exclaimed.

"That's true!" Steve exclaimed, looking thoughtful.

"Great, now you've got his hopes up," Robin glared at Eddie.

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to try," Eddie wiggled his eyebrows at Steve.

"His parents are still in the room, son," John said. "It's bad enough that we heard you this morning. We don't need the image of you railing our son. Happy for you, though."

"Dad!"

And so this weird, intermingled but loveable family live happily ever -

"Eddie! If you ever want to have sex with me again, come back to bed!" Steve yelled.

"I haven't finished the sentence, Steve! You can't end a story in the middle of a sentence!" Eddie shrieked.

"Bed!"

"Steve, do you know how fucked - "

THE END. . .