#but i had to go to dinner and couldn't make this post rip me

[nevaronn]

Forever Yours [Until The Sun Burns Out] is now live on AO3, FFN, and LiveJournal! (Links Below)

Pairing: Yumichika Ayasegawa/Ikkaku Madarame

Rating: M

Warnings: None

Status: Complete

Tags: Smut, Fluff, Pre-Hell Arc, Post-TYBW, Lots of emotions, Sexting, Lingerie, Pain Kink, Rough Sex, Choking, Possessive Sex, Slight Degradation, MENTIONED Blood Kink

Summary: Smartphones in the soul society seemed like a good idea at first... and then Yumichika got his hands on one, and he's making it his goal to make Ikkaku suffer

____________________________________________

Happy (late) Birthday Yumichika!!

I've had this idea for a while, and thought it would be fun to post for his birthday, although there ended up being more emotions in it then smut... not sure how I feel abt that, but I think it came out cute all the same :)

Highkey might do a part 2 for Ikkakus Bday... we shall see shall by the sea shore.

Do let me know what you think of her! I havent written smut in a very long time so it was good to stretch those muscles again!

Ive been exhausted with work but Im excited for the next chapter of Tangled Up, it contains one of the first scenes I ever thought up for this story, so finally getting to put it onto a page is very exciting for me, and I do hope you'll stick around for it:)

See you all soon!

All the love,

Nev

AO3 | FFN | LJ

[adoregojo]

secret admirer.

hihihihihihihihi, i cannot believe i actually slept for two days in a row? wth? and also that i never did this kind of posts? im such a lazy bum mb yall, I promise I'll write a real fic soon. summary: bllk characters as your secret admirers: isagi, bachira, chigiri, reo. how they fell, what do they do, how did they confess.

isagi.y

him. just him.

you once held his shirt collar to stop him from planting flatly on the floor.

and when you walked away, you walked with his heart in your palms.

yea, just like that

but honestly, isagi himself didn't knew he was such a big sap inside

and the moment he realised you two shared a few classes was the second he almost kneeled and thanked the sky itself for this.

an absolute swoon from looking at your side profile.

he once was long gone within the abyss of daydreaming about you, he genuinely just couldn't look away.

then got called out by the teacher for being too distracted.

definitely prayed that you didn't see that.

writes your name unintentionally in his notebook.

gets so embarrassed about it later and rips the paper.

still dose it again the next day and almost ripped the whole book apart form cringing at himself.

he once was musing over you too much to the point that your name slipped out unwittingly on the dinner table.

his parents couldn't stop teasing him about it, wondering when they would see you walking down their house door.

leaves love notes in your locker almost everyday.

it's something short and simple like: "you look pretty today."

then when he goes home he'll realize how dumb that was because you literally look the prettiest everyday.

dumb, dumby.

takes time to make the first move though.

he just feels like you're way, farther away from his reach.

it's okay, he still considers himself lucky to be one of those who got admire you.

he just hoped you saw him behind all of them, even if it was a glance.

chigiri.h

omgg pretty boyyy

despite chigiri being a confident and self-reliant, the trigger words of his old injury was like a pulling a pin of a grenade to his still-raw sorrowness. something that'll always haunt him.

and what dose he dare to say when they were nothing but truthful? like a salt to his wounds, he tends to just take it and suck it up, or at least try to ignore it for his sake.

but everything flipped when you stood up for him.

from that moment on. chigiri knew that he was far a goner.

out of everyone here he's definitely the most romantic one.

reads all your favourite books and analysis it.

probably named a cat after you.

like isagi he writes love letters for you.

just a little too poetic..

it it's short then it's something like: "loving you is like breathing." or "i hope your days are filled with the same joy you give me with your existence only."

but mostly is: "my definition of love, i see the true meaning of living behind your hue of life. you shall lighten my soul with your existence alone, i was born to see you shin each day, witnessing you is a blessing from heaven itself. the day that i stop seeing you as the owner of the stars is the day my body shall vanish, yet my soul will know it way back to you. from your only and one your admirer."

what a lovesick clown.

he might be a smooth talker on the outside, but trust me the butterflies of sentimental keeps on swirling in his stomach on the sight of you.

told his mother and sister about you.

it was his biggest regrets.

because the next day his sister shouted your name in a demand for you to spend the night for the 'meeting of the future in law'.

he had to physically drag her back to the car, freaking embarrassing.

couldn't meet your eyes for a while after that.

wants to hold your hand.

like, really badly.

it's just that feeling your skin against his cold, pristine hands must've feel like the loveliest, cosiest thing.

the thoughts alone are making him go crazy.

he confessed first, just couldn't help himself.

he just hoped if you would go to the end of the world alongside with him.

bachira.m

the sunshine boy himself.

the definition of fell first AND fell harder.

it all started when the class was ordered to work as duo for a project, something he always despised.

you may say that because bachira was definitely not having the word 'smart' in his book, you'd be right actually.

but mainly since no one really wanted to group up with him.

it was embarrassing, to just sit there and wait to be picked was putting him under the lights that pointed him out as the most pitiful creature in the room.

then you pocked him on the shoulder, and asked him if he wanted to be your partner.

and when he didn't see the sarcasm reeking from you, he knew he tripped hard, and couldn't find it anywhere in his feet to back him up.

it was strange, bachira never had a company, let alone a crush.

but the signs were there, and were painfully vulnerable.

painted you in art class multiple times; you with a smile, you reading a book, you sniffing a sunflower.

maybe also you and him... holding hands or hugging...

stares at your face a way, way too long.

he tells himself it's to crave your features better and detailed.

even he doesn't believe that however.

he draws your eyes a lot.

his second favourite colour is your eyes hue.

he was never the best at writing romantic poems, and his hand writing is just........

so he insisted gets you a gift!

which is a rock.

yes you heard me, rock.

he would even paint a little face with a smile on it and leave it on your desk by the end of the day.

almost went bald from joy when you had it hanging as a small march on your bag.

and when you had a bad day, that goes unnoticed by him.

so imagine your surprise when you would find two pairs of rocks, one kissing the other who had a sad expression on it face.

that somehow that foster a blissful smile on your face. like that little action extinct any remains of the past negative you carried.

and bachira was more than happy to be the reason for your happiness.

definitely rambles about you to his mom.

and his monster.

he once ha a dream about you two smooching.

cried when he woke up because he wanted it to be real more than anything.

you two confessed first, at the same time.

and boy was he dancing on cloud nine at it.

he almost smooch you that moment and then.

reo.m

it's mister perfect everyone, cheer.

you fell first, he fell harder.

no, literally. you fell. tripped flat on the floor.

and somehow, that made the reo mikage heart move.

?????????

love at first (fall??) sight.

he definitely leaves a trail of gifts for you everywhere.

your chair, desk, locker, bag.

he switches between chocolate and flowers to letters and perfumes, necklaces, etc..

you say how he picked them?

easy, see something that reminds him of you, he buys.

and it's pretty foolish since he sees you in almost everything.

reo is convinced that you're within everything that shins beautifully.

he actually paid the teachers to let him be in the same classroom as you.

paid even more to get a seat next to you.

rip to whoever was sitting next to you.

he once heard that a guy was bothering you.

the next day the guy was the talking of school because he suddenly moved out of town due to his dad losing his job.

hm, must be karma then.

has a shrine of you.

but you didn't hear that from me.

talks about you none stop to nagi and ba-ya.

genuinely sobbed when he imagined you with someone else.

has a flight under your name.

made a makeshift doll of you so he can practice his confessions on.

had a mental breakdown of the idea of you rejecting him.

reo can the most horrible, miserable day to a human kind to live.

then he sees you smiling

BOOM

he's all happy and smiling again, also a little giddy.

you once greeted him good morning, the next day he was planing what ring would suit you the most.

had two planes to write on the sky: 'will you go out with me?' and your name next to it in a shade of a heart.

now, you definitely cannot reject that. (Please don't)

have a nice day everyone.

[unabashegirl]

Camping — oneshot

Harry and Y/N were friends in college until that day. Now they are being forced to face one another...

Author's note: this one shot was posted on Patreon a long time ago. Happy that you all have a chance to read it!

check out my patreon and get access to this week new one shot (y/n's bff dad) and much more :)

warning: smut

word count: 4.8K

masterlist

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"I can’t believe you’re making me do this," she said as April tossed her backpack into the back of her car. "This feels like kidnapping."

"Stop being so dramatic and get in the car," April replied, a big smile on her face. You and April had been best friends since college, bonding over the ridiculous workload assigned to your class each week. You were opposites: you loved city life, running water, and comfort, while April thrived on nature, adventure, and challenges. She adored plants and meticulously cared for the ones she had at home. In contrast, April had once gifted you a cactus, which you managed to kill.

"I got us muffins and coffee from that place you love," April said.

"Is this your way of bribing me into going?" you asked, reaching for the bag of treats. "I know this is Mark’s idea." April just shrugged as she started driving.

"Aren’t you tired of the city? This will be good for you! All you do is work, sleep, watch The Office, work out, and repeat," April said, giggling as you stopped chewing.

"Leave The Office out of this," you warned. It had been your favorite show since high school, your comfort show, always playing in your apartment. You even tried to get others hooked on it. "I’ve seen you laugh."

"Listen, there’s something I need to tell you," April said, turning down the music.

"Did Mark propose?" you asked immediately, knowing they were endgame. The three of you had met in college and stayed close ever since.

"No," April replied.

"You’re pregnant then?!"

"Shut up!" April interrupted. "Harry is coming. Mark invited him, and I had no say in it," she blurted out, like ripping off a band-aid.

"Oh! Let me out. I am not going," you said, instantly annoyed at the mention of his name. "I thought Mark and he weren’t friends anymore."

"He just came back from America. He called Mark a few weeks ago, and they had drinks and dinner together. Apparently, he’s changed and is more mature." You rolled your eyes as you finished eating your muffin. Your appetite was gone, and you felt suddenly nervous. "You have to let go of that grudge against him!"

"It’s not a grudge, April. The man ghosted me after we had sex. That was all he was after. Him leaving was the best thing that could have happened to all of us," you said. You had fallen for his charm, and after much convincing, you finally gave in during your senior year.

"You’ve moved on, and so has he. I’m just asking you to be polite, babe," April insisted. "I just want us to have a good time."

You sighed, leaning back in your seat as the cityscape blurred past. "Fine. But if he starts anything, I'm not holding back."

April laughed, patting your leg. "That's the spirit. Just remember, we're here to relax and have fun."

The rest of the drive was filled with casual chatter and music, the tension slowly easing. As you neared your destination, a clearing in the woods where you would set up camp, you couldn't help but appreciate the serene beauty of the place. The stress of city life began to melt away, replaced by a reluctant sense of peace.

April parked the car and you both got out, stretching your legs and taking in the fresh air. "It’s gorgeous out here," you admitted begrudgingly.

"See? Told you it would be worth it," April said, grinning.

Mark emerged from behind the car, waving. "Hey, you two! Glad you made it. I'm surprised you managed to convince Y/N,” he said, wrapping his arms around April.

“It took a lot,” April giggled as Mark kissed her cheek. “Muffins and coffee.”

“I can still go back,” you said, throwing your backpack over your shoulder. “How long is this hike going to take?” you asked, walking up to Mark and giving him a friendly side hug.

“About thirty minutes. Is that fine or are you going to melt?” he teased, grinning.

April slapped his chest playfully before opening the trunk to get the rest of the stuff out. “Where’s your friend, anyway? Or is he still the unpunctual asshole he always was?”

“M’ right here” Harry said as he emerged from the trail that they were going to take to the campsite. You abstained from saying anything surprised at his appearance. He had kept his good looks. He had even gotten more attractive with more age. However, you would never admit it aloud.

April turned to look at you with her eyes widen opened. You gave her the same look, letting her know that you agreed. Harry wore tiny black shorts that left little to imagination. His legs seemed to never end and his thighs were inked. His grey shirt was tight enough sculpt his chest and his pectorals. His curls were tucked under his basketball cap and his eyes hidden away by some aviator sunglasses.

“You were saying, Y/N? I didn’t catch the last part” Harry asked you, with a small smirk. “Are you still a yapping bitch?”

“Just that we should start the hike” You responded, looking straight at him. You weren’t the same quiet and shy girl you were in college. You had matured and life experiences had shaped you. You were more outgoing and vocal about your opinions.

“I thought so” you heard him say as you turned your back towards him.

As you all gathered the camping gear, the anticipation of the weekend settled in. The woods were peaceful, with the sun filtering through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Birds chirped in the distance, and the fresh scent of pine filled the air.

Mark led the way, carrying the heavier equipment with Harry, while April and you followed. Despite your reservations, the beauty of the surroundings began to work its magic, and you found yourself relaxing a bit.

After a short walk, you reached the designated camping spot, a small clearing by a bubbling brook. It was picturesque, almost like a scene from a nature magazine. You couldn’t help but admit, if only to yourself, that it was a nice change from the city’s hustle and bustle.

"That was more than thirty minutes," you complained, dropping to the ground to rest your legs. "You're lucky the view was pretty." Mark and April laughed, while Harry remained silent, just watching you.

"Let's set up camp," Mark said, and he and April began unloading the gear. You took the opportunity to pull out the speaker and connect your phone.

As you selected a playlist, music filled the air, blending with the natural sounds of the forest. You watched as Mark and April worked together seamlessly, their laughter and chatter a comforting background noise. Harry joined in, helping with the heavier items, his actions precise and deliberate. You couldn’t help but feel a simmering resentment toward him, remembering the night that had led up to the hate that you had grown towards him.

You glanced around, taking in the beauty of the campsite. Tall trees encircled the clearing, their leaves rustling in the soft breeze. The nearby brook added a soothing melody to the scene, and the late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over everything.

Harry approached, handing you a bottle of water. "You looked like you could use this," he said, his tone neutral.

"Thanks," you replied curtly, accepting the bottle but avoiding eye contact. His gesture did little to ease the tension between you.

With the tents set up and the campsite organized, the four of you gathered around the fire pit. Mark expertly built a fire, and soon the flames were crackling as the sun descended behind the trees, providing warmth and a focal point for the group.

"How was America?" Mark asked Harry as he handed him a beer. "Did you enjoy living there?"

"It was nice for a while," Harry replied, taking a sip. "But it got lonely after a bit. I'm actually happy to be back."

"Marketing, right?" April asked, earning a quick nod from Harry.

You listened quietly, not fully trusting his cheerful demeanor. It was hard to forget the history between you.

"Well, we're glad to have you back," Mark said, clinking his beer bottle against Harry’s. "It’s like old times again."

April smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, just with more responsibilities and less reckless behavior."

"Speak for yourself," Mark joked, earning a playful nudge from April.

Harry chuckled, but his eyes kept drifting toward you. You avoided his gaze, focusing on the fire instead.

Mark instantly got up from his spot, his eyes twinkled mischievously as he took off his jacket and shirt.

April raised an eyebrow, “What are you doing?!”

“I’m going for a swim” he said, grinning widely as he took of his pants along with his boxers.

You burst out laughing, shaking your head as you covered your eyes not wanting to look at your best friend’s boyfriend privates.

“A swim? It’s pretty late, Mark.” April said as Mark used his hands to cover himself.

“Why not?” Mark said, standing up and stretching. “We’re out here in the middle of nowhere, no one around for miles. It’ll be fun.” He wanted to cut the tension. He wanted for everyone to have fun and it was a way to get everyone out of the funk especially the both of you. “Oh, it’s fucking cold” He said as he ran towards the lake.

April rolled her eyes but smiled. “You’re crazy, you know that?” she yelled after him as she got up from her spot.

“That’s why you love me,” Mark quipped, winking at her.

You bit your lip, considering it. The idea was wild and spontaneous, something you wouldn’t normally do. But maybe that’s what made it appealing.

“Alright,” you said, surprising yourself. “I’m in. But if anyone mentions this to anyone back home, I’m denying everything.” as you started stripping. You couldn’t see Harry, but you could feel Harry’s stare on you.

April laughed. “This should be interesting. Okay, I’m in too.”

Mark clapped his hands together. “Harry?” He yelled as he splashed water. The water was surprisingly warmer than expected.

As soon as your pants came off, you sprinted towards the water, not wanting to give anyone a chance to inspect your body. April followed right behind you, and before you knew it, both of you were submerged in the cool, refreshing water.

The initial shock of the cold water took your breath away, but it quickly turned invigorating. You surfaced, laughing and pushing your wet hair out of your face. April emerged beside you, her laughter echoing across the lake.

"This is crazy!" she shouted, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Harry was right behind, diving into the water with loud splashes. The four of you swam around, the thrill of the spontaneous adventure making everyone giddy.

"Not your worst idea, Mark," you admitted, floating on your back and gazing up at the starry sky. "This is lovely." Mark grinned, splashing water at you.

“Things haven’t changed at much. We still let you convince us into doing shit” said, his tone lighter than it had been all evening.

For a while, you all floated and swam, the cool water refreshing and the company surprisingly pleasant. The tension and animosity seemed to wash away with the gentle waves.

The atmosphere grew quieter as April nestled closer to Mark, the two of them wrapped up in each other's presence, sharing quiet moments and exchanging soft words. The only sounds breaking the silence were the faint music playing in the background and the gentle crackling of the fire.

You glanced over at April and Mark, their closeness evident in the way they leaned into each other, their whispered conversations carrying an intimacy that made you smile despite yourself. It was a rare sight, seeing them so openly affectionate, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy mixed with genuine happiness for them.

Harry saw opposite you, lost in his thoughts as he stared at the sky. The events of the evening seemed to have softened his demeanor, his usual guarded expression replaced by a contemplative look. For once, the animosity between you felt less palpable, overshadowed by the camaraderie of the evening.

The music played softly in the background, a soothing backdrop to the quiet moments shared among friends. The night air was cool against your skin, but the warmth of the water and the company kept you comfortable.

"It's good to see you again, pup," Harry spoke up suddenly, his voice breaking the peaceful silence. The old nickname tugged at your emotions. He had called you that since college, back when you both shared dreams and aspirations.

You looked at him, caught off guard by his unexpected warmth. "Yeah," you replied softly.

"I heard you landed your dream job," he continued, glancing at you with a hint of a smile. You nodded, trying to conceal your own smile. "A reporter for BBC News. I remember how you used to talk about it non-stop. Proud of you."

“Thanks. How is your mom and Gemma?" you asked, recalling that final year of uni when Harry had invited you to his family home. It had been Easter weekend, a time when you got to meet the two women who made Harry’s world turn.

Harry's face softened at the mention of his family. "They're doing well," he replied, a hint of fondness in his voice. "Mom's as busy as ever, and Gemma is a mum now”

"Wait, what?!" You were taken aback, genuinely surprised by the news. It was unexpected, and you hadn't seen it coming.

Harry chuckled softly at your surprised reaction, his eyes reflecting a mix of amusement and pride. "Yeah, she had a baby girl a few months ago," he explained, his voice tinged with happiness. "It's been quite the adjustment, but she's doing great."

You couldn't help but smile at the thought of Gemma as a mother. "That's amazing," you replied genuinely. "Congratulations to her."

As you processed this new information, you felt a twinge of nostalgia for the times you had spent with Harry and his family. It seemed like another lifetime ago, yet the memories were still vivid in your mind. Despite the distance that had grown between you, moments like these reminded you of the bonds that once connected you.

"Listen, Y/N..." Harry began, but he was swiftly cut off by Mark and April.

"We're heading out. We are starving!" Mark called out, trailing after April as they exited.

Harry paused, his words hanging in the air as Mark and April hurriedly headed towards the campsite. You exchanged a glance with Harry, both of you momentarily sidelined by the interruption.

“I’ll see you out there” You said, trying to sound casual despite the awkwardness of the moment. Deep down, you wondered what Harry had wanted to say—whether it was something about the past or the tentative future you both seemed to be tiptoeing around. However, you didn’t want to stay behind. You weren’t skeptical about giving him a chance to explain himself.

Carefully, you swam back to shore and climbed out of the water. Attempting to regain your composure and stride confidently back to camp, you couldn't help but feel you'd failed miserably, especially with the chilly air gnawing at you.

Everyone changed into comfortable clothes while Mark prepared hot dogs for dinner.

"Did you bring your sleeping bag?" April asked, emerging from her tent.

"Yeah, I think so. It was in the hall by the door," you replied, brushing your hair. As you watched April search for it, a feeling of panic began to creep in. You mentally retraced your steps, recalling the things you had taken out of the trunk.

"No way," you muttered under your breath, frantically rummaging through your belongings. "I thought we grabbed everything!"

"What’s wrong? What are you looking for?" Harry asked, wanting to help.

"I think I left my sleeping bag at home," you sighed, realizing it was going to be a tough night. You had brought your tent, but sleeping on the bare ground wasn’t part of the plan.

Harry frowned, considering the situation. "we'll figure something out," he said, his voice reassuring.

Mark, overhearing the conversation, turned from the campfire where he was tending to the hot dogs. "I brought an extra blanket. It's not a sleeping bag, but it should help.”

"Thanks, Mark," you said, grateful for the gesture. Still, the thought of an uncomfortable night's sleep loomed over you.

April emerged triumphantly with a blanket. "Here, hopefully this makes it more comfortable," she said.

You took the blanket from her, managing a small smile. This trip was definitely not going as you had expected—it seemed like one thing after another.

"Hot dogs are ready!" Mark announced cheerfully as he handed everyone their plate and they gathered around the fire.

“Remember the last time we went camping?” April asked as she swallowed a bite of her hot dog.

“Wasn’t that the time that Mark though there was a bear attacking us?” Harry smirked, taking a bite of his hot dog. “What animal was it?”

“It was a racoon” You joined in, the memory making you chuckle.

“In my defense it was SO loud! It made a lot of noise” Mark laughed, shaking his head. “It was bloody big”.

"Was that before or after you tried to scare it away by singing 'Eye of the Tiger' at the top of your lungs?” April busted out laughing.

“He was so off-key. I am surprised the racoon put up a fight”

“I was just trying to protect us!” Mark threw up his hands in mock indignation.

Everyone busted into laughter again, the tension had melted away in the shared amusement. For a moment, it felt like old times, with jokes and stories like in college.

Later, as you settled into your tent with the borrowed blanket, you couldn’t help but think about all the conversations that you had with your friends. Harry's earlier attempt to talk still lingered in your mind, and you knew that the conversation was far from over.

Just as you were about to drift off, you heard a soft knock on the tent flap. "Hey, you still awake?" It was Harry’s voice.

You sat up, your heart beating a little faster. "Yeah, what’s going on?"

Harry unzipped the tent entrance and peeked in, holding a sleeping bag. "I thought you might need this."

"You brought an extra one?" you asked, suspicion creeping into your voice.

"Yeah," he replied, but his eyes betrayed him. You knew Harry too well to be fooled.

"You're lying," you said, stopping him just as he turned to leave. "You can’t fool me. I know you, Harry Styles. I know this is your sleeping bag."

He paused, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "So, what if it is?"

"That I’m not taking your sleeping bag from you," you insisted, handing it back to him. "Thank you, though."

He hesitated, the flickering firelight casting shadows across his face. "Let's share it then," he suggested softly.

You blinked, taken aback by his offer. You were nervous. The though of you sharing such a tight space and being in such proximity made your heart beat faster and the palms of your hands sweaty.

“Are you sure?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he said firmly, stepping into the tent. “It’s cold, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable”.

With a nod, you scooted over to make room. Harry stretched out the sleeping back and unzipped it for both of you. As you both settled into the sleeping bag, the proximity was comforting, but unsettling at the same time. The warmth of his body next to yours was a stark contrast to the chilly night air. You both shared a pillow and the blanket that April had giving you.

His scent enveloped you — a mix of pine, musk and a hint of the campfire smoke. His warmth radiated through the thin layers of the fabric, soothing the chill of the night air. The gently rise and fall of his chest against your back created a rhythmic presence. His arm draped lightly over your side and the sensation of his body pressed against yours brought an unexpected sense of nostalgia.

“Are you confortable?” He whispered as if sharing. secret, as if what you were doing was somehow forbidden.

You nodded slight, feeling the wright of his questions. “I am” you whispered back, the darkness amplifying the intimacy of the moment.

The silence that followed was filled with the soft sounds of the forest and the distant crackle of the campfire outside.

“Thank you” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“No problem” he replied softly, his words brushing against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the moment. There was still something in the air. Something unspoken.

“Remember that night?” Harry whispered after a while, his voice a gently murmur in the quiet night. Referring to the night of passion that they had shared back in uni. The night that had stayed with you ever since.

“Every second of it” you replied, your voice tinged with a mixture of longing and hurt. Memories flooding back, vivid and bittersweet. You could still recall the feel of his lips, the way his touch had ignited a fire within you. “Why did you never call or text back?”

Harry sighed softly, his warm breath against your neck. “I was a coward,” he admitted, his voice thick with regret. “I was scared of what I felt for you, of how much you meant to me. I didn’t know how to handle it, so I ran”

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. You turn slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his for the truth. In the dim light of the tent, you could see raw vulnerability that he rarely showed.

“I thought I wasn’t good enough for you” You admitted, “I resented you for it” Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of relief and sorrow.

“I am wrong. I was so wrong. I missed you” he confessed. Harry reached out, gently brushing a tear from your cheek.

The air between you grew thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions. His eyes locked onto yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. You could feel yourself drawing closer, every inch of space between you crackling with tension. The warmth of his body, the gently rise and fall of his chest and the soft brush of his breath against your skin all conspired to lure you to him.

He hesitated, his eyes flicking down to your lips, and you felt like your breath hitch, the moment stretching into an eternity. The desire to close the gap, to feel the familiar yet thrilling sensation of his kiss, was overwhelming and every fiber of you yearned for that kiss that would final bridge all those years of resentment.

Harry’s gaze was intense, his eyes searching yours as if trying to decipher your every thought. His hand trembled slightly as he reached out, cupping your cheek with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

With a deep breath, Harry leaned in slowly, closing the miniscule gap between you. His lips brushed against yours with a feather light touch, tentative yet filled with longing. His lips were warm and soft, fitting against yours as if they had always belonged there.

A soft sigh escaped Harry’s lips, a mixture of relief. His hand moved from your cheek to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, each movement a silent confession of years of yearning and regret.

Lost in the moment, you ran your fingers through his hair, savoring the texture and the closeness it brough. His touch sent sparks through your body, awakening every nerve ending with a delicious ache between your legs that only he could take care of.

“Let me have you” His breath mingling with yours as he whispered, “I want you so bad” His hand took yours, guiding it to him, making you feel the intensity of his longing and the very evident erection that he had grown for her. His words hung in the air, heavy with desire.

You nodded slowly, your breath hitching in your throat. "Yes," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. "I want you too.” You didn’t think much about it. Your mind was too clouded.

Harry closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss both tender and urgent. He used the kiss to roll you to your side with your back towards him. Harry pulled off the sweater off your body and pull the straps of your bralette off your shoulders, exposing more skin for his lips to capture.

Harry hands came down to your pants as his lips trailed down to your neck, each kiss a lingering, deliberate caress that sent shivers down your spine. As his mouth found the sensitive spot just below your ear, he paused, letting his lips brush lightly over your pulse point before his right hand found its way into your underwear.

“Try to stay quiet, yeah?” As his fingers started playing with you, touching your most intimate spots. His knee came between your legs, spreading them more and allowing him to explore more of you.

Harry left arm went under her head, for you to rest your head against his bicep while he had his way with you. You bit your lips, arching your hips towards his hand just as his fingers entered you. A rush of pleasure coursed through you, mingling with a cascade of nerves that made your heart race.

“God. You are so wet, pup” He groaned as he tried his best to contain himself. Harry left hand came down to cover your mouth as your moans got louder. “You are doing so good, baby”, he mumbled, his arms tightening around you.

“For the love of fuck” you gasped as you came undone on his fingers. It was hot, you were both still nuzzled in the sleeping bag. Just as you unzipped the sleeping bag and sat up, you caught Harry sucking the same two fingers that had been in you a second ago.

“Come here” Harry commanded as he slipped off his joggers and boxers. It was a sight that she hoped to never forget. The muscles of his abdomen flexed proof that he spent his diligent time at the gym. His erection stood tall and proudly inviting you to ride him.

You slipped off your pants and underwear. Harry hands gripped your waist tightly and guided you down on to him. The pleasure was instant as he stretched you out. Harry’s fingers gripped you tightly, holding you still for a second as you both adjusted to the sensation.

His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as his head was thrown back.

“Show me how much you missed me” You said to him which only ignited the fire within him. His hands guided your hips, as you both tried to find the perfect rhythm to drive you off the edge.

“Look at you. So fuckin’ perfect just f’me” Your words only ignited the fire within him, a spark that quickly grew into an all-consuming blaze.

His hands firmly guided your hips, every movement deliberate and driven by an intense desire to bring you both to the peak of ecstasy. The sensation of his strong hands on your skin, the way he moved with you, sent waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You both sought the perfect rhythm, each thrust and shift in sync, the friction and pressure building with every passing second.

“Oh, baby… you are so tight” he moaned, Harry’s grip tightened on your waist, his fingernails digging into your skin. Your thrust and grinding became sloppier and soon enough both of you were moaning. You clenched around him as Harry lifted his hips from the ground as you both came undone.

You laid down on his chest with him still in you. It was comforting, having him in you. Harry’s hands came up and brushed your sweaty hair back.

“You aren’t going to disappear now, are you?” You asked as he drew patterns on your sweaty back.

“I am not going anywhere”.

[adventuringblind]

charles having a baby fever

Father Material

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: fluff but also kinda smutty

Request: I saw this and my brain immediately went down the gutter. I appreciate you for this request 🙏 also my requests are open so send me things

Summary: Charles gets a case of baby fever and you're willing to indulge him ;)

Warnings: sexual themes ahead, not the whole thing but it's definitely in there. Talks of pregnancy.

Notes: I would be lying if I said I'm not a hoe for this man. Written in third person.

Masterlist

The following media is not intended for anyone below the age of 18. If your are under that, please do not interact with this post.

Charles had managed to take notice of every child in the paddock that day.

He'd recently been noticing small things. Things like baby clothes, small children, family interactions.

He'd watched Sergio and Kevin with their kids. Seb had brought his family around. It was starting to get to him.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't want kids. Starting a family was always a dream of his. Something him and his wife talked about often. They just hadn't really tried for a baby.

He knew she was at their house. Waiting for him to come home with groceries. It felt peaceful compared to the life they lived during race season.

As he walked, he could pick out every family. Kids bundled up in their winter clothes. Adults holding them upright so they don't slip and fall.

He could hardly take it. He's never walked home so fast in his life.

She was in the kitchen when he appeared behind her in the doorway. She was prepping to make dinner.

Charles looked disheveled, out of breath. She was concerned and yet simultaneously turned on by his appearance.

"Are you alright?" She asked. Charles quickly came back to his senses. Dropped the bass on the floor and wrapped her in a hug.

"We should have a baby." He was looking directly into her eyes. His face completely straight.

She was taken off guard for a moment. Then, realizing the proposal, she started excitedly shaking her head.

Charles was waiting no time. Vigorously kissing her lips. Heavy but passionate.

She was giggling at him. "What are you laughing at?" He asked as he swiftly picked her up and set her on the counter.

"Nothing, I just find you adorable."

He was mumbling French into her collarbone and Italian into her chest. Letting his hands roam her body freely.

"You are so beautiful. Soon, you will become a goddess. Pregnant with our child." He cradled her face in his hands.

"Charles I swear if you don't stop teasing-" She couldn't get any farther as Charles practically ripped her clothes off. Now left in only her underwear.

He ran his fingers lightly across her now bare skin. Memorizing the feeling. Paying attention to the way she reacted to his touch.

His shirt and jeans were next. His lips only breaking away from her for a second. Her fingers begin tracing every line on his body. The way his chest was rising and falling in rapid succession.

“Mon Amour, shall we start here, then maybe move to the couch, then into the bedroom.” He’s voice is dripping with need. He is going to take her on every piece of furniture even if it takes all night.

Her brain was already turned off. The act of thinking to much with the feeling of his fingers worshiping her. She practically fell into him, humming her approval.

Charles lifted her for a second, her only remaining garment now tossed aside.

Then he took her on the counter, then again on the chair, the dining room table and the couch. Finally they made it to the bed where Charles made love to her softly. Her body trembling with every ministration.

Charles is the ‘king of aftercare’ as she likes to call him. Something he occasionally gloated about. Much to Pierre's dismay.

He grabbed a wet rag and a cup of water. Using the rag to clean off the bodily fluids that covered both of them.

She curled her body into Charles. Her head rested on his chest.

"I think you'll make a great dad." She mumbles. Charles laughs at the notion.

"Why do you think that Mon chère?"

"You just seem like father material, ya know."

"Guess I should learn some dad joke then." The two were both laughing now.

Basking in eachothers presence. Fantasizing about what life will be like with a growing family.

[multifandomgirl08]

From Three to Four [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: Reader tells Max that your expecting, he doesn't have the best reaction at first.

Warning(s): Slight angst, Flashback to four months before

A/N: This one is a little shorter then normal. It's set before the third social media posts of The Verstappens but takes place before Stones To Throw At My Creator.

Words: 1.6k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

You had suspected before you had been sure. There were no signs that you could be pregnant other than the obvious. Making the appointment was the most nerve-wracking thing. Waiting for the results was stressful, but the confirmation took a bit of the pressure off.

You stared at the sonogram pictures again before placing them back in your bag.

You heard Max coming up the stairs into the kitchen where you had been waiting for him to see the box that you had left for him.

“What’s this?” Max asked picking up the wrapped box.

“Open it,” Your eyes rested on Max to see his reaction to what was in the box.

He ripped into the wrapping paper and pulled the top off the box before seeing a little Red Bull onesie. You had taken the time to go online and order one as soon as your test results had come back from your doctor.

Max was quick to drop the box and the onesie on the kitchen counter.

“I..” Max tried to get out. His expression was too blank for your liking. “I wasn't expecting this.”

"I know that it's sooner than what we talked about." You immediately said.

"I just… didn't think that we'd have them so soon." He looked so lost.

You and Max had talked about waiting for a year or two before the possibility of trying for a baby. He had just won a fourth world title and was in pursuit of a fifth, you understood that.

January 10, 2025 - Saint-Jean Cap Ferret, France

From the moment that you had woken up that morning, you had been unpacking boxes. You started in the kitchen having finished putting the last of the cups and dishes away just before Nico had come in asking about lunch.

You had made him a sandwich and taken a few bites of the leftovers from dinner yesterday because you didn’t feel like cooking after putting all of the pots and pans away.

Max had been in one of the spare bedrooms getting his racing sim all setup. It had been the last thing that had been packed and moved and unfortunately for Max, it was the last thing that was brought into the house after all of the furniture. He wasn’t happy about it sitting in the garage for a week.

After eating, you had finally gotten to the boxes that lined the built-in bookshelves that would house Max’s ever-growing collection of trophies. You were down to the last two boxes when you heard footsteps coming up the stairs from the lower part of the house.

Looking over, you saw Max come into the kitchen and take a Red Bull out of the fridge. You glanced back down at the trophy in your hands, seeing the little plaque on it, the words Spain 2016 on it.

You heard the clang of the Red Bull can against the marble of the kitchen counter.

"Mijn leeuwin?" You heard Max turning your head towards him.

His hands went to your hips pulling you back against his chest. "What are you thinking about?"

You lightly shook your head. The more that you unpacked things, you couldn't help but think of the possibility of having kids with Max. He was such a good dad to Nico, and you knew that you eventually wanted to give Max more kids.

"Tell me." He whispered into your ear. That was always his way of getting you to tell him things when you didn't feel like you could.

You turned in his arms to look at him, "What do you think about Nico eventually getting a sibling?"

“Checo and Daniel had asked me this." You hadn't realized that Max was already thinking of the possibility of you getting pregnant.

“And…” You wanted to know what Max thought about this. Sure, you would be the one to have the baby but you wanted to make sure that you were both on the same page about when would be a good time.

“And I told them that one day we would have more but not now.”

You nodded along with Max’s words. He was right, one day you would have more kids, but it didn’t make sense for it to be now. You had just moved, and the wedding was in less than a month. Any children could wait until after.

“Maybe in a year or two?” You asked.

“Maybe,” Max said before pulling the trophy from your hands and placing it on one of the empty shelves.

“For now,” He pulled you into his arms. “I want to enjoy all the free practice that I can.”

“Yeah?” You asked. He quickly nodded back as you let yourself melt into his arms.

He took your hand pulling you away from the boxes towards the master bedroom, getting a small practice session in before you had to start dinner.

It seemed like life or fate, whichever one had different plans for you. 

You walked closer to him pressing yourself up against his chest, trying to ground him back to you. It didn't take long for him to place his arms around your waist, his hands not traveling down to your hips like they normally would.

“What’s going on Max?” You asked. You weren’t sure why he was having this reaction. Whenever you had talked about having kids before he seemed excited. He didn’t seem that way now.

“I… I, just. I wasn’t there when Nico was born or with my ex when she was pregnant with him.”

Max had never referred to his ex as Nico’s mother. You had accepted that she was just the woman that gave birth to him. That had been easy to accept when you had found out that she had given up her parental rights to him. When you signed the adoption paperwork, something settle inside of you.

“Max,” You reached for his hand to place it on your lower abdomen. You could feel the strain in his hand, he wanted to pull away. “Max,” You started again. “You’re already a great father to Nico.”

“It’s not that. I thought that the first time that you would get pregnant I wouldn’t be driving anymore. I could be home and experience all of it this time around.” Everytime that you and Max had talked about him retiring, it had always seemed like he intended to finish his current contract with Red Bull before that happened.

“Max there is nothing stopping you from driving and us having more kids.” You offered up.

You moved your hands up to Max’s neck, pulling his head down to meet yours.

“You have done everything right by Nico since the day that he’s come into your life. Moving around your schedule so that you can be there for his first day of school, putting off an endorsement deal so that you would be there the day that he started karting.” Max finally looked down at you as you kept talking. “You have been there for all the major moments of his life, spending every moment that you can with him. Besides your not going to want to spend every moment of this pregnancy with me when I’m hormonal and get emotional for no reason.”

Max broke out in a laugh at your last sentence before he started to nod.

“You are an amazing father, this baby is going to be lucky to be raised by you.” You reached up to cup his cheek.

“Really?” He asked with baited breath.

You nodded. You could feel Max’s hands go lax under the fabric of your clothes, his fingertips just lightly tracing over the non-existent bump.

“That means no more free practice.” He muttered as he pulled away a little.

You laughed, “Free practice ended when we got back from the honeymoon.”

Max was fast on the track but it took a little longer for your body to give you those signs.

Your and Max's honeymoon had been two weeks, spending the first week in The Bahamas before flying back home and christening the new house.

Nico had spent time with Sophie, Victoria, and his cousins back in Belgium before they all flew out to see the house.

Your time alone with Max had been nice, just the two of you sleeping in before Max would go and sit on the sim for a few hours. You would eventually get up and make yourself a coffee and something that resembled breakfast before pulling him off the sim and back into bed for a while.

You hadn't been trying to get pregnant, but birth control only did so much.

“I don’t know how Nico is going to feel now that he won’t be getting all of the attention,” Max said leaning his back against the kitchen counter.

"I'm sure he'll find a way to get our attention. He is related to you after all."

“Doesn’t mean that he hasn’t picked up things from you as well.”

Nico had started picking up things that you would do, from the way that you would use certain words in a sentence, to how he would mimic you when you were doing something around the house. In those moments, you felt the most like his mother.

You couldn’t wait for this baby to be a part of such a loving family.

“You want to call your mom and Victoria and tell them, or should I?” You asked.

Max lightly groaned before dropping his head to your shoulder. You ran your fingers through his hair before feeling his head come up off your shoulder.

"Tomorrow?" He asked. You nodded back before noticing Max's eyes drop to your abdomen, his large hands not leaving your sides until Nico had come into the kitchen.

taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover

[whillywisp]

moments in between. pt. 1

⚠︎ | moments of rest and unrest between lovers who are afraid, who hestitate, and who see little sense in peace. proceed with caution.

Summary: reader disappears suddenly during the funeral of her fallen District partner, who had died at her own hands, and comes back home to her lover's grief.

Category: requested.

Timeline: set post 70th Hunger Games, one month after reader won.

Tags : angst, destructive love; mild comfort towards the end,

Warnings: implied canon typical violence, toxic relationship, toxic coping mechanisms, PTSD, implied suicide attempt, implied self harm, destructive behaviour.

Pairing: Finnick Odair X Reader

“Where were you?”

She didn't look at him, too focused on dragging the bag in her hands next to him. It looked heavy, he noted mildly, and he wondered what on earth was in it, why his girl—his victor—was carrying it around.

She looked up from the floor, strands of her wet hair sticking to the sides of her face, and his heart sank at the blank, unfocused gaze that met his.

“Out.”

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his temper in check, to calm his racing heart, that was still twisted into a knot of fear in his chest that refused to loosen as he slammed the receiver back in it's place.

"Out where?" He asked, his face twisting in bewilderment as she walked past him, carrying the strange bag, into the kitchen. He watched her as placed it on the counter and took plastic containers out, blinking when he saw them full of steaming, spicy crab stew. “Doll—”

“I went to the market,” she mumbled distractedly as she looked for bowls and a ladle. “Ate dinner with a friend. Brought back some stew for you. I'll make you some ric—”

“You left a funeral, Piers' funeral, went missing for nine hours and now you want me to believe you just went to eat dinner with a friend?” He asked, staring at the girl in front of him as if she was speaking in a completely different language.

“Mhmm.”

And he immediately knew something was wrong.

Finnick knew her better than anyone, anyone, and he knew that she would never do this. Piers Morgan had died by her hands in the arena. She wouldn't abandon his funeral for nothing. She wouldn't miss a chance to apologise to his parents for his sacrifice, despite the fact that it would get her into trouble.

She wouldn't. But she had.

And now, he couldn't even think beyond the sheer amount of anger suffocating him. He couldn't think beyond the worry etched in the lines of Mags' aging features or the hysteria that suffocated Annie. He couldn't think beyond the way he could feel his heart nearly give out from fear, of the way he nearly ripped his hair out in the last nine hours calling everyone under the sun to help him find her—

“Do you think this is some kind of joke?” He asked quietly, his eyes trained on her, on the soaked fabric of her black dress, clinging to her skin, on the way her fingertips had turned blue from the rain she had been walking around in. “Do you think it's funny? Scaring the shit out of everyone like this? Do you know what you have put me through for the past nine hours—”

“I needed some time alone—”

“And you couldn't wait to have that alone time for an hour?” He asked, letting out an incredulous laugh. “You couldn't tell me before you went off to God knows where—”

“That's the fucking point isn't it?” She asked, letting out a short, sardonic laugh, making the room go still, freezing him in his place. Part of him was glad, relieved at the sight of an emotion, even if it was anger, in her eyes. He couldn't stand the lifeless grief that stained her skin like indigo on ivory.

“I needed a few hours of feeling like a normal human being. One that doesn't have blood on her hands. One that doesn't have cash deposited into a bank account from the Capitol because she killed people. I needed a few hours of feeling like myself again and I can't do that with one of you constantly breathing down my fucking neck!"

“Well, guess what? You're not normal!” Finnick shouted back, trying not to breathe too hard because God his heart, his heart hurt. He could feel the way shards of his ribs and glass of her words and his own stuck in the soft tissues and making it bleed. “You're a fucking Victor and I'm your fucking mentor and that means you don't go disappearing on me for nine hours!”

But even that did little stop the venom flowing from his lips.

“You think I enjoy babysitting you?” He asked stepping up to her, staring down at the way his own, twisted features reflected in her empty eyes. “You think I enjoy having to watch your every move and keep my eyes on you all the time? You think I like waking up every morning with a knot in my stomach wondering if you'll still be breathing by the end of the day?”

Poison. He was poison.

“I never asked you to care!” She screamed back, making him flinch back a little his chest heaving. “I didn't ask you to care! I didn't ask you to do anything for me! It's not my fault that you can't be a normal mentor who can't give up after his job is done! Your job was done when my time in the arena ended and it's not my fault that you don't recognise that!”

“Well, that's fucking unfortunate because sadly, for both of us, I do care. Beyond what my job description entails.” He snapped at her, breathless at the sight of her rage, stunned by the fact that despite her state, despite the unbound tempers, she still was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

He leaned against the kitchen island, rubbing his shaking hands across his face as he tried to breathe, tried to see beyond the red and blue of their combined rage.

“You can't keep doing this, baby,” he whispered, looking at her through the thin film of moisture in his eyes, pleading, begging her to stop hurting him. “Y-You can't keep doing this. You can't disappear for hours like this and-and come back looking like you jumped into the fucking ocean—”

“Go home, Finnick.”

“I thought I lost you. I thought you tried again—”

“Please stop it and go home.”

“And-And then you walked in through the door, looking like t-that and not saying a word and I knew, I knew you did. I knew you tried to leave again—”

“Then go home! Then go home if I scare you so much! Go home if I'm so fucking terrifying!” She screamed, slapping her hands down on his chest and he gasped, his very breath lost at the way her wet hair curled like tendrils of smoke.

“I am home!” He shouted back, grabbing her wrists before she could do it again. He tugged her as close as he could, leaning his forehead against hers, trying to ignore the way she flinched at his touch, at the way his fingertips pressed into the lines on her wrists.

“I am home,” he repeated firmly, ignoring the blood staining his fingertips, his lips trembling against the cold of her skin. “I am home. And so are you. And you need to stop this. You need to stop hurting yourself, baby— please just listen to me!”

Her blank eyes snapped up to meet his, and he pressed his lips to hers desparately, begging her to come back to him, to please come back from the world he had lost her to.

“You can't keep hurting yourself,” he whispered, gently pushing back strands of her hair, wiping away the tear teetering on her lower lashline with his thumb, leaving behind a streak of red in his wake. “You can't disappear like that again, ever. And you absolutely cannot go anywhere alone, not with the way you are acting these days. You can't—”

“I don't want to do this anymore,” she whispered, her lips trembling, breaking whatever was left of his heart. “I c-can't do this. I'm not meant to be a-a Victor. I'm not. I can't live like this anymore—”

“Yes, you can,” he whispered, shaking his head, pressing a kiss to her forehead, cheek, nose before finally on her lips, desparate for her to feel him, to know that he was here, right here and that he would never leave. “You survived the Games, you'll survive this too. You'll be fine. We'll be fine.”

“I'm so sorry,” she choked out in a breathless sob, crumbling in his arms like fine snow. “I'm s-so sorry. I'm so sorry.”

I'm so sorry that I can't stop hurting you.

“It's okay,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her, tight and misplaced as if he was trying to hold too many pieces of her together at once. “You're okay, baby. I'm okay. We're okay. We're going to be okay.”

The lie burned his tongue like acid and his lungs like the cigarettes he smoked. But even if it did little to ease the fear and pain and grief and rage clawing at her skin like vultures asking for their share of her flesh, he'd do it again. He pressed a kiss into her hair and prayed to whoever would listen, to accept his lie this once to give him a truth in exchange. This once.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ •─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

A/N: Written in the middle of a study break, on Tumblr before being unleashed into the world and so please be kind. English is not my first language so if it has some weird lines then that's why. Inspired by the song above but not a song fic. I have been burnt out and unable to write for a while but this has been on my mind for the last few days. Hope you enjoy.

All my love,

Moon.

[shortstrawberry]

I know, I know. It was Bela's b'day yesterday and I didn't post anything. However, I'm finally free now!

So here's a small sneak peak from my upcoming long oneshot. Bela has her heart back and she is trying to woo the dumbass oblivious MC.

Things have been quite... same ever since the whole debacle with Headmistress and the whole "get Bela's heart back" passed. Not that you were expecting anything earth shattering different to happen. Bela Dimitrescu is still the same draconian workaholic Student Council President who somehow manages to be a straight A grade student. You are still her Vice President, buried under the tons and tons of paperwork that gets passed along your way.

However, since past four months, from the day Bela received her heart back and fainted whispering "You have pretty eyes", certain events have happened that you cannot explain.

Exhibit A: Student Council President fussing after your sick self

"Acchhoooo!"

You loudly sneeze against the tissue paper, trying in vain to contain the droplets inside it. You are normally a shameless cretin who wouldn't hide your sneezing with tissue when alone, sick and dying in your room. But that's the thing. You are very much not alone.

A gorgeous blonde head popped out of your small kitchenette, looking at you with a reprimanding glare.

You shyly hide yourself underneath the blanket, knowing what your president is about to ask you.

"Did you use the nasal spray I brought you?"

You did not answer, still remaining hidden underneath your weighted blanket. You heard a soft beautiful sigh accompanied by approaching footsteps, and you just couldn't help but wonder how can a girl make sighing sound pretty.

The bedsheets were ripped off from you, and you found your answer to your question as you met the intense gaze of one Bela Dimitrescu.

Of course, if anyone can make breathing beautiful, it is this gorgeous blonde. You swear the song "Gorgeous" by Taylor Swift was written for her.

"cor meum, how will you become better if you don't take care of yourself?"

You gave your council president a petulant look, your mouth pouting against your will. You know you are being childish right now against someone who is only trying to take care of you. The said someone has taken out time from their packed schedule to cook some stew for you. But you are sick with fever and cold and you have a feeling the council president will give you a pass this one time.

"That spray stings my nose! I don't wanna use it!"

Bela's eyes immediately softened at your pouty voice, her eyebrows drawing close in focused attention. She tilted her head just slightly to the right, her pale pink lips rising in a amused and affectionate (?) smile.

"cor meum, you haven't taken your inhaler, have you? It will clear up your nose, and you will be able to breathe freely."

Of course you know all of that, but you choose to ignore it. Bela is being uncharacteristically lenient right now, even if she has been soft these days ever since she got her heart back. But today's Bela is still the softest you have ever witnessed.

For starters, she dragged you home from Council work and declared you are on leave until you get better. Then she made you take medicines and sleep while she worked besides you on her laptop. When you woke up, you had lunch waiting for you.

And now it is dinner time and Bela is still here. Not that you want her to go away. Your sleepy sick mind even wanted her to stay forever. Something your usual self won't even dream of.

Taking advantage of the boldness or rather foolishness your fever is giving you, you go ahead and ask what has forever been nagging you. Since the day certain someone got her heart back and started to look at you with strange, different emotion.

"You keep calling me that. What does it mean? What language is it even? Latin?"

The beautiful blonde looked at you carefully, before answering you back in a even more amused voice.

"Yes, and it means 'stupid heart'. Because you have a silly, moronic heart that makes you do careless things like walking back to your home when its raining a storm."

You pout, defending yourself immediately. Even if you remember that incident fondly.

"I had only one umbrella and you were staying back to work! What if you had to go back under rain? So I left the umbrella for you!"

Bela in answer looked away, a hint of pink creeping up her cheeks. She hurriedly draped the blanket on top of you, before settling down besides you and flicking your forehead.

It was a soft flick, clearly a affectionate gesture. Something Bela has been doing a lot lately. You stay up too late working? Sending you away to sleep and flick against forehead. You forget to eat breakfast? A croissant and flick against your forehead. You forget to text her that you have reached home? She will come to your home and flick your forehead.

Strangely enough, you have come to crave these flicks to your forehead. It shows that the once heartless girl...now cares for you.

Well, she had cared for you even when without a heart, as a similiar scene played from your memories. The scowling Student Council President demanding you have her homemade soup.

Now the only difference is that Bela is looking at you with the purest look of concern and offering to apply nasal spray on you herself.

"Here, give me the spray. I will do it myself because someone has become a helpless child."

You only grin cheekily, but let Bela do what she wants. You have troubled the poor blonde enough. And you have a feeling the dinner Bela is making will start burning soon if you keep her any longer.

With two whiffs of spray you were out like a light, sleep coming to you in minutes, You mumble a soft yes when Bela tucks you in, telling you that she would wake you up in time of dinner.

Unbeknownst to your peaceful sleeping self, the eldest Dimitrescu sister stayed besides you for few long minutes, gazing at you with the softest expression.

A soft, feathery kiss was laid on your forehead. Right where she flicks you all the time.

"It means my heart. You are my cor meum."

Cor meum means "my heart" in Latin according to Google Translate.

[kelloggsenthusiast]

please could you do a carlos alcaraz smut where he brings you to meet his parents and you have a good evening and after he rewards you with sex?

Permanent fixture

Post Cincinnati masters innit

cw: Trash Spanish translations (thank you Duolingo), smut, breeding kink, p in v, hella teasing, dirty talk (it's Carlos alca-rizz pls). Minors dni.

You had met Carlos' family before. That in itself wasn't new. The difference was that tonight you had gone to dinner with all of them, whereas you had only properly interacted with his mum or younger brothers during the time you used to play tennis yourself.

The dinner had gone objectively well, with your boyfriend holding you hand under the table every time he sensed that you were even slightly uncomfortable. That little gesture made your heart melt for him more.

By the end of the night, you were feeling more comfortable seated between Carlos and his older brother, chatting animatedly with his family comfortably.

Back at your hotel, as he watched you brush your hair and get ready for bed, Your boyfriend couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to make you a permanent part of his family. He thought about getting a beach house with you in the south of Spain, with some beach in your backyard. He thought of a dog or three that you would pick. Most importantly, he thought about you being pregnant, your tummy round with his children and him taking care of you.

"a penny for your thoughts, guapo?" she you ask as you turn in your seat to look at him.

"ven aqui," he says, tapping his lap for you to go sit, which you dont hesitate to do

you straddle him and he wraps his arms around your waist, making you comfortable in his lap.

"i was just thinking about how good you looked tonight with my family, and my younger siblings. it made me want to start one with you," he said as his hands go under the oversized Duran Duran t-shirt you were wearing. his warm touch made your stomach turn sweetly. you looked into his soft brown eyes and found sincerity in them, one that you had not been expecting to find.

"do you want me to give you children, mi amor?" he asks ans he lightly juts his hips into yours. you knew what he wanted. you had wanted it too. all night in fact

"yes, carlos," you say breathlessly

his hand comes to the back of your neck as he presses a sweet kiss to you lips. your hips begin to rub against his, making his grip on your waist tighter. you moan into his mouth as his tingue tastes you and his hands run down your body to the hem of your shirt

he reaches under your tee shirt to try and get you out of the cloth and pulls away fromthe kiss to lift it over your head. he looks at you, bereft of clothing exept for your barely covering it underwear.

his hand lifts to toy with your nipples, gently tugging and squeezing the engorged bud. you like.it so much that it makes you bdy arch towards him. his mouthr cobers your other nipple, nibbling and licking and sucking on the taunt flesh. making you hotter. making you weter. making you cry out his name.

"fuck, thats the prettiest sound ive ever heard in my life mi amor," be cooed as he played with your breasts. you began to grind against him with more fevor, making him groan against your chest

"more, please more," you whimper helplessly, desperately trying to get him where you needed him the most, and its like your prayers were answered because he immediately detached from your chest and went to kiss a spot on your neck that he knew drove you mad, all while his hamds made their way down to the hem of your thong. his fingers hooked the silky fabric and began to try and himmy it down your legs. when he realised that this was taking him nowhere, he decided to rip the fabric clean off, making you gasp

unable to hold himself back anymore, he flips the both of you overand kneels at the foot of the bed, pulling you towards him and making himself level with your glistening pussy

"carajo, muñeca. eres tan perfecta," he says before sucking on your hard nub, dragging his tongue against your bundle of nerves.

>"oh my god, carlos,"you moan out as you drag your fingers through him soft dark curls. he looks up at you as he continues his ministrations. he absolutely loved seeing you like this, all flustered and delirious. the total opposite of yourusual composed and calculated self. he loved hearing you beg and scream and moan. he especially loved that he was the onewho did that to you.

you began to grind your hips against his face, despereately searching for more friction until his hands squeezed your thighs, holding them in place. one of his hnds went between your legs to collect some of your wetness on his fingers. need to keep you wet as i can he thinks to himselfas he curls his fingers up inside of you, making your hips stutter. it was driving you mad, how close you were

"come on, bebé, you can do it," he encouraged as he thrusts hisstill curled fingers in and out of you. with a strangled cry and a shuddering body, you came all over his fingers and face. he fingered you through it, whispering to you how good you were for him and how it turned him on to see you like that, at his mercy

he pulled away to undress himself as you came down, but you still watched his every movement.

it never got old to you

oncwe he was fully unclothed, he ran his fingers over your wetness, collecting some of it and using it to stroke himself. he looked so painflly hard and ready. it made you wet all over again, seeing him do that.

he ran the leaking head of his cock obver your slit, ccoating t with his warm precum. it made you let ouf the neediest , most pathetic whimper ever. god, you were so embarrased by it that you bit your lip.

"dont do that, hermosa," he chide as he leaned down to kiss you on the lips."i want to hear all the pretty sounds you make."

his words made yoyr head light, or maybe it was the head of his cock slowly entering your tight pussy. whatever it was, you were enjoying it

"ah, fuck," he groans as he grabs the sheets with his fist. you moaned as well, grabbing his biceps for purchase as he slowly bottomed out in you

"i love you," he whispers as he enters you completely. the sincerity of his voice makes tears spring into your eyes

"i love you," you respond as he begins to slowly thrust into you

his strokes were slow and gentle at first, making you get used to the stretch and intrusion, making you relax so hecould give you what you wanted. your hips began to move against his, meeting his thrusts

"tan bonita, tan preciosa, todos para mi," he groans as he picks up speed, rutting into you with purpose.

your breathing got shallower the closer he brought you to your orgasm. you felt so in love inthat moment as you stared up at him with rose tinted irises. you clech around him as you come for the second time. he continues to thrust into you, this time flicking your clit with his thum. the overstimulation makes you clench and jerk uncontrollably as you cry out his name.

"asi, mi amor, you can do it again.you can give me one more," he groans as his th rusts pick up more speed

"i- i- "you choke out. you feel him getting to you, his fingers on your clit, his thrusts against that ribbed spot inside you, his cock twitching with every thrust

"i cant," you cry out as you feel him get closer and bringing you along with him.

"you can mi amor. you can do it," he grunts. "come on, just one more. i know you can."

your breath catches as you feel your third orgasm wash over you, from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. your body trembles and yoir pussy clenches, making carlos release his large hot load in you with a groan. you stare up at him as you try to regain your breath.

"i love you, he rasped as he leaned his forehead against yours.

"i love you," you respond , holding him close

[tamaharu]

wait i just remembered i DO have unposted orv stuff that i can post for kim dokjas birthday. 2k of hot supreme king x reader fic dont like dont read!!!1!! orginal characarter do not steal!!!!!

(or, Yoo Joonghyuk takes a pit-stop in one of the world-lines. An old friend offers to pay for dinner.)

[Ah, late, so late! I can't believe I missed my alarm! And on my first day of work too... I was so worried, when I got off the train, I started running the rest of the way to the company. Hopefully nobody would notice that I was late. I had to get a new job after my boyfriend dumped me, and I couldn't afford to live on my previous salary.

As I rushed to the building, I had to push past many people to get to the doors. In my haste, however, I accidentally tripped! When I fell, I landed against something hard. "Oof!"

"Hey," a menacing voice said. "Watch where you're going next time! Don't be so quick to touch me!" Eep!

I stepped back quickly, bowing as deep as I could. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean t..." When I looked up I trailed off, becoming even more panicked. Ah, I recognized that man!

He looked down at me with a handsomely striking gaze. "You. What is your name?"

"I-It's L/N Y/N. Um, again, I'm so sorry... CEO-nim!" I bowed again. A nose and a chin shaped in perfect angles; a pair of deep eyes seemingly carved out of beautiful jewels; soft hair styled fashionably to frame his face... His suit, too, looked quite beautiful. I really messed up this time. Not only was I late, but I ran into the CEO of the company, the powerful Yoo Jo--]

I stopped there. I didn't bother to learn the name of the poor idol whose name had been stolen for this. Why was I even reading this? Reader-inserts were meant for wish fulfillment, but they always did something that took you out of the story. For the first part, I'd pay much more attention to my surroundings than that.

I pocketed my phone again, sighing. Perhaps I was the cynical one here? They were probably just written by young girls, daydreaming about getting to talk to a beloved character or idol, and was that so horrible? Actually, I believed in chance meetings, but I felt like the one here was a little too contrived...

Many thoughts went through my head as I stepped through a convenience store. Buying dinner after work was the only good thing about my job, I should just quit. Perhaps that would get me closer to the path of meeting a handsome CEO? How laughable.

I was still thinking this when I moved forwards again. But this time, when I walked, I ran directly into a hard wall.

No, wait? I had been to this store many times, and there wasn't anything blocking the entryway the other times. I stepped back, confused, to find my 'wall' staring back at me. Ah... Perhaps I should've read that story until the end.

The man in front of me had a good face. He certainly looked like he could be the menacing protagonist. But, how do I put this? Everything below the neck ruined the effect. 

He was wearing an astronaut's spacesuit, even with the helmet tucked in his arms, but he wore a black trenchcoat over that, making his form extra bulky. At the same time, strange rips were visible against it. Not a romance protagonist, then. Sci-fi? But the coat screamed chuunibyou characterization...

"Ah, sorry, I wasn't watching, excuse me..."

The man was still staring at me, and if anything his expression grew more annoyed. What did he want me to say? Should I chastise him for standing in the middle of the walkway?

Before I said anything, or even managed to go around him, a young girl peeked out from behind his back. She was dressed more normally, in casual clothes with a fuzzy jacket, but still stood out just by being around him. When she saw me, her first reaction was curiosity, but after a moment, her eyes widened in surprise and an unprecedented amount of delight.

"Oh, it's okay! I promise his bark is worse than his bite. Hey, you're from around here, yes? Do you have some money we can borrow?"

Huh?

The man turned to glare at the shameless girl instead. "We don't need money. Especially not from… them."

"Yes, yes. You're a big scary terrorist, you steal what you can't buy. Isn't that too much though? You're already beating poor authors senseless, how much crime do you need to commit before your dark heart is satisfied?"

I quickly turned on my heel and walked in the opposite direction.

"Hey, hey!" The girl's voice called out again, and I could hear her running to follow me. With a sigh, I paused and looked back at her. I didn't want someone like her friend chasing me, so it would be better to just hear her out.

"Ah, I'm sorry, you must think we're acting quite weird! But, really, we don't have any money. If you can, could you spare just a couple of dollars?"

"Mm, I don't know. If you're that desperate isn't it better to be more polite in asking? What happened, did you lose it all on a scam?" No, wait, what was I saying? I didn't want to deal with these guys longer than I had to. Just talking to them would make me stick out very badly.

Still, for some strange reason, I couldn't stop myself from taking on a familiar tone.

Her friend gave her a mean look, which she ignored, before glancing at me. After a second, he said, "We were mugged."

I blinked at him. "I see..." He gave a pained nod as if to really emphasize his plight, while the girl just smiled. When she noticed my gaze on her, her expression switched to that of grim sincerity.

I had to take a moment to step back and mentally collect myself. First off, how stupid did they think I was? Not only was their acting terrible, but who would honestly think a guy like this was attacked? And lost?

Still, there was a hint of realism in their performance. Definitely not mugged, but maybe they were actually broke?

I sighed to myself, folding my arms and looking up at the ceiling. Ah, what should I do? Most people would just ignore them, or perhaps the chosen few would spare them just enough won for a small meal.

I wasn't a kind person. No more than anyone else was, anyways. My philosophy was that it's best to go through life not making waves, and sometimes the politeness required to slip under the radar was misconstrued as kindness. Still, when the common consensus split so unevenly, that left one question: what would I, Y/N, do? After all, 'myself' was the only thing I could be.

I sighed again, much more exhausted this time. "Okay, let's go get dinner. Follow me."

The man's eyes shook slightly, reluctance evident in his expression. Still, when I started to walk out of the store, they followed after me. Damn, being followed by a guy in that outfit was truly humiliating...

The girl caught on much quicker, hurrying to match my pace. "Haha, isn't this sweet? Going out is much better than convenience store food. You're so nice... Mm, I don't think I caught your name?"

"Ah... Yes, my name is L/N Y/N."

"Y/N?" She echoed. My name sounded strange in her mouth for whatever reason. Maybe I just wasn't used to hearing people not from work use it. In fact, she had an odd look on her face, but it passed quickly. "I see. It's a good name!"

I smiled faintly, shrugging. "Thank you. Though, I guess you should be telling my parents that more than me."

"Aah, well, I'm Biyoo! And you can just call him the 'Supreme King.'"

I immediately shot back, "I am not calling him that," the same time our titular king went, "Do not call me that."

A moment of silence passed between us, as though he was seriously debating something. Finally, he spoke, seeming deeply annoyed. "Yoo Joonghyuk."

Was that his name, then? His manners were bad, but I let it slide for now. He would just have to thank me very sincerely for buying him food.

"Here, this place does cheap meal sets. Sorry, I know I offered, but it's nothing fancy..."

Biyoo seemingly paid this no mind, while Yoo Joonghyuk shot me an inscrutable look. Hey, at least I had some money. He was in no place to judge. Even if this would mean I'd be eating leftovers for the next couple of days.

The restaurant sat us down quickly. Biyoo and I pulled our chopsticks apart cheerfully. Yoo Joonghyuk kept his utensils untouched, however.

"What is it? I already apologized that it isn't too nice."

"I don't eat food made by others."

His voice was deadly serious. Who was this arrogant bastard? No, actually, both of them were rude. Why was I humoring them to this extent?

Finally, I shrugged. "Okay then, your choice. What's this I heard about you stealing from convenience stores? Perhaps I should go alert the workers there, I wouldn't want their jobs to be in danger just because some man decided thievery was better than perfectly good food, already paid for..."

He glared at me, but I ignored him, eating happily. Ah, the rice here was so fluffy, I never got it like this when I made it at home.

Biyoo laughed, which prompted me to look up. To my satisfaction, Yoo Joonghyuk had picked up the chopsticks and was gruffly taking his share.

"So, Y/N-ssi, tell us about yourself! I'd very much like to know about the person who's been so hospitable to us poor mugging victims."

"Well, firstly, you don't need to pretend to have been attacked to me. I already bought you food. I don't need your sob story."

"Aha, what gave it away?"

"Secondly, there's not much to say about me.. If anything, I'm more interested in your story."

"I'm sure that's not true! Let's see... What do you do for a job that lets you provide for two stragglers?"

She avoided my questioning easily. Was it okay to be giving out my information like this to two strangers? Perhaps they'd kill me after we finished eating.

"I work at an editing company. You’re just lucky I can stretch my budget these days, or we’d all be going hungry. It’s not exactly freelance? But the jobs are varied enough that it keeps me engaged."

"So, you read for a living?" Yoo Joonghyuk asked, looking unexpectedly interested.

"Er, I suppose that's one way to put it... It's a lot of typesetting and indexing meaningless writing. I do like reading fiction in my free time, though," I confirmed. "Not that I have a lot of that, of course..."

"Webnovels?"

I stopped short. "What was that?"

Yoo Joonghyuk asked again, in a patient tone, "Do you read webnovels?"

It felt like being caught reading said webnovels during work, even though my phone was firmly in my pocket, and this guy had definitely seen stranger things than a reader of webnovels. After all, they had to be read to be popular.

"Yes, a little bit... But they'd almost be harder to avoid these days."

Yoo Joonghyuk and Biyoo shared a meaningful look, though it appeared less like they were making fun of me, and more like they were commiserating on some unknown truth to my words.

"What's your favorite genre?"

"I don't know, maybe reincarnation? They can include both action and romance, so it can diversify. Isn't it a nice thought that after I die, I could come into a world where I could be even happier?"

"You shouldn't think like that," Yoo Joonghyuk said, and I raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it's not as if it's ever going to come true."

He carried on like he didn't hear me. "While you shouldn't completely forsake your plan for the future, nor can you forget the past that shaped you, you have to live in the present. You must live to give yourself the best life possible now, with what you have, rather than thinking things would get better if you had the chance to repeat them."

I stared at him for a long moment, surprised, before I... I burst out laughing. His face darkened, but I couldn't control myself. Biyoo giggled a little with me, patting his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I'm not dismissing what you're saying. You're just so serious about it. You act like you've repeated your life many times." I grinned at him, rubbing tears out of my eyes. "I have no intention of dying anytime soon. It's just daydreams, anyways."

It was so odd being with the two of them, but I didn't hate it. Feeding them, telling them about my life, and Yoo Joonghyuk's heartfelt words. It made me feel as if we had known each other for a long time, even though it had been less than an hour.

We stayed like that for a while, talking and eating in a way that felt strangely comfortable. It had been a long time since I had last eaten with other people, especially with people so strange. I’d have to tell someone about this. But… who?

As we finished up, I thought about it. Without me asking, they offered to walk me home, and just for the fun of it, I decided I’d let them.

I’d tell my roommates, I realized. They’d berate me for having strangers come to our home, but then they’d laugh, and we’d keep a baseball bat by all of our beds. I’d tell my co-workers, who would make jokes about me treating them to dinner too. I’d tell my family, my mother fussing over whether I needed money and my sister calling me a liar for claiming Yoo Joonghyuk was dressed like an astronaut. There were plenty of people to tell, who’d want to hear about something so insignificant, who would just want to hear from me. How could I have forgotten?

When we arrived at my apartment building, we all hesitated for a long moment, none willing to be the first to say goodbye. Finally, I said, “You know, I should probably ask that you pay me back at some point.”

Biyoo smiled sadly. “Well, I doubt we’ll see each other again.”

“True. But just keep it in mind, okay?”

“Stingy,” Yoo Joonghyuk tsked and I shrugged good-naturedly.

“Thanks for walking me. I could’ve handled it on my own, but it was nice.” I worked my key out of my bag as I spoke, turning to the building. “I hope you two have a good night.” However, before I could even go inside, Biyoo reached out and clutched my sleeve desperately.

“Wait!” She burst. "Before you go, we... There's a story we want you to read! A webnovel, like the kind you enjoy. You definitely have to read it! Do you promise?"

I smiled at her earnestness. Wasn't she a bit cute? She almost reminded me of a puppy. "Alright, alright, I promise. What's the name?"

"That..." Biyoo pouted. "There isn't a name yet. It isn't released yet."

"Then how am I supposed to read it? Even when it gets published, I won't be able to find it."

"No, it's okay! I'm sure you'll find it once it starts getting released, and you'll definitely come to love that story. You made a promise to read it, so don't go back on that promise."

"Ahh, you expect so much from me. What do you want me to do, read every new webnovel until I somehow find the one you're talking about?" Despite my exaggerated words, she nodded, and all I could do was laugh. "Fine, fine! Is it a sad or happy story? I like most everything, but I should prepare myself if it's anything too sad."

Instead of her answering, Yoo Joonghyuk began, "L/N Y/N..." I glanced over at him, confused. His voice was full of inexplicable longing when he asked, "Are you happy?"

"Hah? What's that supposed to mean? If I say yes, are you going to tell me to get used to never being happy because of it?" It was a joke, but his expression was deadly serious. I gave a helpless laugh, but matched his sincerity when I told him, "I... Yeah, Yoo Joonghyuk. I'm happy. I wasn't for a long time, but I'm really happy right now."

He smiled. It was a smile that was forged from years of loneliness and hardship, but finding a way to live despite it all. I recognized it, because I saw the same exact smile in my mirror every day.

"It's a happy story."

"Then I promise I'll read it."

Biyoo gave me one last hug before she left. "We'll both do our best, alright? So, stay happy, for the rest of your life."

Those two were so strange. Still, I watched from in front of the building as they walked down the empty sidewalk, towards the setting sun, until they disappeared completely from view.

[judebelle]

pedri being possessive over reader smut? 🤍

possessive - p.g. x reader

a/n : yes yes and YES. also sorry for not posting for long i was super duper busy! also i made this a drabble too!

cw : smutty as hell, hint of pablo gavi x fem!reader, jealousy, possessiveness, slight breeding kink, cursing

pairing : pedri gonzález x fem!reader

word count : 920

- - -

as soon as you closed pedri's door to his large house you had found yourself pressed against it, your expensive bag descending to the floor. "pedri what are you doing-" pedri suddenly started kissing sloppily down your neck, leaving marks all over it which was exposed from your dress' low neckline.

you were faking your cluelessness, and you knew exactly what pedri was doing and why he was doing it. you were upset with pedri before going out to the dinner he had dragged you along to because he was not spending any time with you prior to it.

so of course, you decided to put on a show by flirting subtly with his close friend and teammate pablo. sure, maybe you overreacted, but something about the way that pedri stared at you from across the table while you asked pablo questions about himself and grazed his bicep with your hand got you excited. even pablo was getting flustered with the constant touching and laughing coming from your end.

you were brought out of your thoughts as pedri spun you around swiftly and pushed you onto the front door, your cheek flush against the cold entryway. you let out a yelp at the sudden movement as pedri hiked your short dress up your hips.

"you think you can just go flirt with my friend in front of my face, huh?" pedri leaned back to slap your ass before ripping your underwear off of you. "pedri what the fuck?! what are you-" "you just go running to pablo as soon as you want my attention," pedri started undoing his belt with one hand as the other held you against the door.

"well that's not how it works baby. oh just wait. i'm gonna fuck you so hard that i'll be the only man on your fucking mind." "oh god pedri-" you couldn't even finish your breathless sentence before you felt his cock against the skin of your ass. he pulled your hips back to bend you over some before you heard him spit on his hand. after that your mind just went blank.

you could feel his hard and hot cock stretch you out as you let out a guttural moan. "yeah, you like getting fucked like this huh? you think pablo could fuck you like i do? could he make you feel this good?" pedri's pelvis was fully pressed against your ass when he pushed deep inside you. he didn't give you any time to adjust like he usually did - thrusting hard and fast immediately.

you were on fire. the initial pain and eventual pleasure being ripped through you was very different than what you were accustomed to. pedri wasn't usually rough like this, so you knew you pissed him off.

he dipped down to your neck and sucked on your skin hard while he pounded into you from behind. he moved his lips from spot to spot all over your neck while he pulled your hair making you lean back into him. your mouth was agape, and your hands were trying to grasp onto anything to hold onto on the flat door, but to no avail.

pedri removed his lips from your neck before leaning into your ear and biting the lobe. "gonna leave hickeys all over you so everybody knows that you're mine." he was panting and breathless behind you, his hand prodding into your side while his hips rutted into you.

"tell me- ah!" pedri was clearly trying to teach you a lesson, but the way you moaned and your nails scratched the door in front of you while you clenched around him made it hard for him to focus. "tell me that only i can make you feel like this." you didn't fully register was pedri was telling you to do since your eyes were rolling back into your skull and your throat dry and without air.

"tell me." you didn't think it was possible for pedri to be able to fuck you harder than he already was, but clearly it was since you could basically feel him in your stomach. his words finally reached your brain when he gave pulled back on your hair harder.

"you- oh god- only you can fuck me like this- oh fuck. fuck- only you pedri - no one else!" you weren't sure if your sentence was comprehensible or not, but the way that pedri smiled against your ear in satisfaction and kissed it before standing upright again told you that it was. he let go of your hair to hold into both sides of your hips before pulling you back onto his cock in addition to his hard thrusting.

the sound of skin slapping mixed with pedri's loud groans and your breathless moans was somehow pushing you even closer to the edge. the thin layer of sweat around both of you was only making you hornier before you finally couldn't hold it anymore.

"pedri i'm gonna cum- fuck!". "cum," pedri was back down at your ear again. "cum all over me." that was the last straw for you before you felt your legs go numb and vision go back. you moaned out in a loud cry as you came all over pedri's cock, a tear or two slipping from your eyes. pedri was quick to follow suit, cumming raw into you without pulling out. he let out a soft moan when he felt himself fill you up.

"i wonder how pablo would feel if i put a baby in you."

[banquetwriter]

Please do a part 2 to the Johnnie fix u just posted !

୨୧ Cinnamon pt:2 ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡

summary: ʚ A part two to cinnamon ɞ

Words: 1034

An: this was in reference to: cinnamon go check it out since this is part two! This turned out so bad I'm so sorry. I never wanted to make a part two to this so I'm a lil upset lol

SUPPORT ME

It was the day after the party, you weren't too hungover by any means, just a little sick feeling in the morning but that had passed hours ago. You had also left the party early deciding it wasn't fair to torture yourself with Johnnie all night long.

You were taking a slow sip of your drink and scrolling around Pinterest when an Instagram DM from Johnnie popped up on your phone. Your eyebrow shot up tapping the notification.

J: ‘Hey, you left that party quickly last night. Sure you're doing ok?’

You smiled briefly at his message. You set your drink down while sitting up to reply.

‘Haha yeah I’m all good just got a little overwhelmed that's all :)’

You sent your message and decided to put your phone down. You didn't want to wait around for his reply, that was only going to cause you to get even more attached to someone who didn't like you. You turned the TV on and put on one of your favorite shows.

You say most of an episode is for caving and checking for a text back. Sure enough, that was a notification from the world's favorite emo boy. You tap on it unlocking your phone.

J: ‘oh ok. I'm always here if you need to talk or anything like that. Can I ask what made you so overwhelmed?’ he asked. You felt that familiar heartbeat increase as you re-read his message over and over again.

‘It was just someone I didn't wanna be around for that long. It wasn't in a bad way, I just needed a break from someone.’ you replied. You Weren't sure why you couldn't just lie to him but you couldn't.

You hoped he would take your words and leave you be, but as fate would have it… he doesn't. J: ‘Was it me?’ he asks. You're not sure how to respond, you suppose it would be time to talk this out as the opportunity presented itself.

‘We can talk sometime in person, ok? Are you free at all this week?’ you sent back, anxiety creeping its way through your whole body in waves. This wasn't right. We shouldn't meet.

Was there a possibility that Johnnie actually liked you? No. Right? You Weren't sure at this point. People who like someone check in on them. Maybe he DID like you just not how you want him to.

Your heart nearly exploded when you heard another text go through. J: ‘Im free today’ your heart was pounding so fast. Would you even have the courage to meet today in the first place.

It's better to get the bandage ripped off sooner than later. ‘Works for me lets get dinner?’ you sent the message feeling like you were going to vomit. You wanted to get all ready for him, look your best.

But you knew you shouldn't do that. He needed this from you at your most true self. Sweatpants and all. He agreed and you both arranged plans to meet in only four hours.

Four hours is a lot of time to wait for something but it felt even longer as you checked the clock every five minutes to see if it was time or not. But after all your waiting it was finally time to leave.

You pulled up to this place and Johnnie was already standing outside. You both shuffle around each other awkwardly for a moment before you tell him to sit down. You choose a spot outside and sit down.

The wind blows on both of you as it chills you to the bone. “So I did leave because of you but, that sounds so scary and mean.” you start. He just stared at you for a moment “ok.” was all he said, his voice wavering.

“It's because I really like you. And I know this sounds immature and silly but when you didn't talk to me at the party I felt so alone. I thought you might have liked me too and I don't know. I just needed to leave after you gave me water.” you confessed to him.

It all felt so silly now. Leaving a party because a boy didn't like you. He doesn't say anything and again your instinct is to just run, as fast and as far as you can. Johnnie doesn't let that happen this time.

As soon as you stand up his arm reaches out for you. You stop at his contact. “Y/n I definitely like you, don't worry,” he said as you slowly sat back down. You hold his eyes before eventually feeling the feeling of shame creep back in.

“Sorry,” you mumble slowly. “I thought you left because I made you uncomfortable or something,” he said, the wind blowing again. Your heart was soaring at his words. “No, I was just high and overwhelmed,” you said looking down at his hand that was still holding your arm.

“Oh right. Well, I definitely like you, I don't talk to people I don't like this much,” he said, causing both of you to giggle slightly. “I'm sorry for the way I reacted. I just got so scared,” you said through a pitiful laugh.

“It's ok we all get scared of something. I just can't ever imagine someone like you liking someone like me,” he said rubbing the back of his neck. “What do you mean? You're so fucking funny and nice Johnnie of course I like you,” you say with a smile.

“Thanks but I don't believe you. It's just that you're so funny, smart, and… pretty. I don't know how I can compare.” he said looking down. “Johnnie, that's how I feel about you,” you said leaning towards him.

“We should hang out sometime,” he said, unfortunately removing his hand from your arm to fix his hair. “We’re hanging out right now,” you said, tilting your head slightly. “No, I mean like on a date?” he says looking up at you through his hair. “You wanna take me on a date?” you whisper leaning further towards him.

“Y-yes we should go on a date,” he said again, adjusting his hair. “Ok let's go on a date then.”

“OK?”

“Ok.”

[totallytatum]

summary ; two post-outbreak lovers bite off more than they can chew. you had a secret but couldn't tell him before he left.

pairing ; obviously our beloved joel x reader

warning ; smut, mdni, grief, word count ; 1.9k

tease ; “ lie to me. make it believable.“ “ i love you. “ a/n ; not going to lie, i'm not sure if i like how this turned out. there will be another part but i hope this is a good start. much love.

before you arrived it was just bill and frank, two lovers just trying to survive like everyone else. at first it just started with bill, when the military evacuated civilians- bill was prepared and ready, creating the small town you like to now call “ lovers quarrel. “ it gained it’s name from you after watching the relationship of the two men who had so much love for each other that you thought they might absolutely beat the shit out of each other with their arguments. from bill and frank, too the three of you, to a small minor group, it became a city- a safe haven.

it wasn’t abnormal for joel and tess to stop by the makeshift city. their stay wasn’t usually long but they were frequent. the nights usually consisted of a small dinner and the sounds of laughter as everyone got lost in muse. full stomachs and glass after glass of wine. that’s all it took for you, with glances back and forth from joel and the shy smiles from across the table, he’d find you later that night.

clearing his throat, joel crossed his arms, “ hey. “ you glanced up from the dishes you were cleaning from dinner just hours ago. shaking your hands free of the soap and lukewarm water you turned to him, “ oh hey joel. tess isn’t here if that’s who you’re looking for. “ he shook his head, “ no, not looking for her. was lookin’ for you actually. “ you shot him a look of confusion. you couldn’t think of a reason he’d be looking for you. he sauntered over to you, placing his hands on the countertop on each side of you. he was so close you could smell the alcohol that lingered on his breath. joel sucked a breath in, leaning closer to you, your chest against his and his nose brushing past yours. “ i seen you staring darlin, “ you didn’t realize you were holding your breath until your eyes met his, turning seven shades of red, not knowing he caught you. “ and i’m gonna be honest, i couldn’t help but stare too. “

seconds felt like years. nothing was said between you two. you weren't sure if you should be doing this. weren't sure if you were suppose to be feeling like this. your internal battle must have been sensed by joel because your thoughts were interrupted with his lips joining yours, molding perfectly together. joel's hands made their way to your waist, digging his finger tips into your hips. his sloppy kisses moved from your lips to your jaw and you hummed lightly, " joel- " your hands moved up to his biceps, feeling his flex under your light touch. you've always been attracted to his arms, it proved him a man of honest work. "hmm.." his kisses landed on your neck, nipping at the skin. your hands reached for his waist, pushing your hips into his hungrily. you wanted him. you needed him.

" take it off, " his hands grip the bottom of your shirt. he moves from your neck back to your mouth, the kisses were desperate. no longer fulfilling. you two only separated long enough for your shirt to come over your head. you tug at his shirt, wanting to see what he actually looked like underneath. he leaned back, tugging his shirt up. you took the chance to study him, eyes following the shirt as it came up. he was built like a god and you weren't sure if you'd keep your hands off.

you were in a staring fit when you felt your jeans being tugged down, huffing " these need to go. " joel ripped them down with such force your hips stung a little. his fingers wrapped around your thighs, lifting you up and sitting you on the counter top. you let out a soft moan as his hands trailed up your thighs, brushing over your sweet spot over your panties, " gonna make you feel good. so good.." your hands tangled into his hair as he planted kisses from your shoulder, down your breasts and down your stomach. he pushed aside your panties, running a finger between your folds. you tugged slightly at his hair as that same finger was inserted. you leaned your head back in euphoria. " does that feel good baby? do i make you feel good? " his finger pulled out, pushing another index in. you were surprised by his next move, joel moved down, planting a soft kiss to your clit before beginning to suck on it like it was his last meal. " o-oh god. " he removes his indexes and replace them with his tongue, you're tugging at joel's hand like it's the only thing to hold on too. his hand reaches up, moving your bra over to play with your peaks. " fuck...j-joel.." your thighs are trembling as hes devouring your pussy. his tongue keeps swirling your clit, coaxing you closer to your orgasm. you throw your head back and grind your his against his face.

you can feel it, the bubble building up about to burst. just as your about to reach heaven, he pulls away. he unbuckles his belt quickly, pushing his jeans and his boxers down, exposing himself. you can't help but stare. joel isn't the first man you ever been with but he was the biggest. " get down here and bend over, " he husks and his hand pumps his shaft. you move off the counter, pushing your panties to the floor, and leaning over the counter. you stare out the window hoping that no one sees you now that you remember it's there. joel's hand lays flat on the top part of your back, pushing you flat to where your breasts are now laying on the surface. you can hear him grunt as he moves closer to you, pushing his member between your thighs to your heat. he rubs his cock between your folds, tapping it a few times. making sure you hear the wetness, " all for me. all for me a no one else. " you moan his name loudly as he finally sinks the tip into entrance. he lets out a broke rasp of your name as your walls engulf him. you feel yourself stretch and adjust to him as he slowly sinks in further, " that's it. take it all like the good girl you are. " you eyes widen as he bottoms out, nudging at your cervix. he wastes no tie pulling back out and roughly shoving himself back in, leaving you to cry out. you grip the the counter, finger nails gripping the wood.

" c-can feel you s-squeezin' " he grunts out, " can feel y-you squeezing my c-cock. " joel continues to pound into you, reaching down with one hand to rub your cit with his calloused fingers and the other hand tangled into your hair, gripping it tightly. "j-joel i'm g-gonna c-cum. " you cry out, the overwhelming sensation of him everywhere. you can't take it anymore as you can feel you high flowing through your body as he delivers intense blows to your heat. " yeah, g-gonna cum for me b-baby girl. " you scream out as your orgasm takes over your body, you couldn't hold it anymore. you're trembling under his hold, he still pounds into roughly. you can tell he's nearing his high, his thrusts become sloppy. he pushes one devastatingly last blow into your pussy, painting your walls with his seed.

" god.." you whisper stumbling back into him, your back against his chest. his arms wrap around your chest, sinking his face into your neck and leaving a small kiss.

--

joel and you made it a usual thing when they visited. he snuck of to see through the nights he stayed, sharing soft spoken words of love and tangles in the sheets. you didn't want to believe it but you knew you were falling for the rough introverted joel miller. not only were you going to tell him you true feelings for him, the love you shared for him. you would kill or be killed for him but that you were giving his gift- a gift from god. a child.

it was an unsual time of arrival for joel to show up with tess, much later than you have ever seen them pass through, dinner was already served and cleaned up. you sat around the small fire in the back yard, the swinging swaying slightly as you turned the page of your romance novel. a small knock against the door frame, caught your attention. looking up for your book there he stood in all his glory. " hello there stranger. " he shoved his hands into the front pockets, chuckling lightly. " hey there darlin. need to talk to you about somethin. " your eyebrow furrowed, looking at him. joel never came to you about needing to talk about anything. joel didn't talk about anything. " i need to talk to you too, but you go first. mine can wait. " you commented, closing your book, moving your legs for him to sit down. his arm stretched out the back on the back of the swing, playing with your finger tips. " no easy way to say this but i'm leaving. going west, i have to find my brother. it's been weeks since he stopped answering. " no. no no no. he couldn't leave you. " y-you're leaving? "

you voice shook, your heart was pounding. this is not what you wanted to hear. tears brimmed your eyes as you sucked in a breath. he was going to leave you here. here alone in overs quarrel to raise a baby. he interrupted your thoughts, moving his hand to clasp your fingers together, " i'll be back. i'll be back for you, i just need to bring him home. " you shook your head, already knowing the near death experiences he told you about prior. " it's dangerous out there joel, how can you tell me that. how can you be sure you're coming back? " your voice began to raise, fighting tears back, you breath in harshly. he can't say he's coming back when he doesn't know how long he'll be out there. " now wait a minute. i always come back. i always come back to you, he's my brother y/n, i have to make sure he's okay. " you knew this, but the hope for tommy was slim. all the way out to wyoming? not a chance. your mind scrambled, looking at anything to keep him here. " you can't leave me. i love you! " you became angry. how dare he make you fall in love and just spring this on you. " i'll be back dammit, you can't change my mind on this. " his voice raising as well, " i'm coming back for you, what else do you want me to fucking say. " "lie to me. make it believable. " joel stood up, running his fingers through his hair, letting out a aggravated sigh, " i love you. "

your heart shattered. all the feelings you developed for him, he did not return. you were around merely for his own pleasure and contempt when he comes to lincoln. you stood up, shoving your book into his chest, glaring through tears, " i hate you. " you stated with anger, surely you could hear the pain behind it. you slammed the door behind you, leaving joel to kick the frame of the porch, letting out an angry huff.

that was the last time you saw joel. or for at least a couple of years. his arrival surprised and scared you shitless as you stared at him across the fence.

" joel? "

[an-au-blog]

Trans (ftm)Sanji who absolutely refuses to sleep with Zoro for multiple reasons. They've been together for a while but he never let's them go further than making out. (because i need to post angst more than I need air)

CW: some sexual themes!!!, body dysmorphia, easting disorder, internalized transphobia, mentioned pregnancy, emotional breakdown

Sanji's main concerns were that: 1. Zoro wouldn't want to be with him because he "wasn't a proper man", 2. he'd treat him differently or 3. he would end up pregnant. That probably terrified him the most. Everything about it was horrifying to him: the idea of carrying a living thing in his body appalled him. And even if he lived through it, he was also scared with how the child would turn out. What if it turned out like him, or even worse - like his biological brothers or father, not to mention it could be physically unwell with how much he smoked.

One day, in the heat of the moment making out, Sanji gets carried away and forgets himself. It was only when Zoro started grinding against him that he started getting nervous again. The swordsman broke the kiss and pulled away a bit. "Is something wrong? he asked, I have a feeling this isn't doing anything for you..."

Sanji realized he was talking about not feeling his erection, and he feels like a moron for letting it get to there. On autopilot he answered "I'm fine, I'm a bit under the weather is all" while lighting a cigarette. He walked out ignoring whatever Zoro tried to tell him and as soon as he was out of sight he rand to a secluded area. Thought started flooding him.

He'll think I'm not attracted to him, and then he'll break up with me, and he'll hate me, he'll find out what I am and he'll hate me, even worse - he'll think less of me, that I'm weak and tell everyone and they'll leave me, or worse.

He doesn't know when he had fallen on the ground but he was rocking himself with half a pack already gone. His vision was blurry. He wanted to scream to rip his throat open and let all the painful noises bubbling inside it. But everyone would hear... they would hear and would hate him for not being what he's supposed to... So he stood there, hoping he doesn't catch a cold, muffling his sobs best he can, and wondering why he couldn't die on that Godforsaken rock when he had the chance.

But he didn't have the power over that. What he did have the power over was his own wretched body that caused him so much pain and what he did with it.

He decided from that day on, he was going to reduce his meals in half. If he became thinner maybe what little was left of his breasts would vanish and at least he wouldn't have to wear something to suppress them. So he did. He did it as subtly as possible. But maybe didn't do it as well as he thought. He realized they might be onto him when Luffy of all people offered him some of his food. Sanji declined and lied saying he had a big lunch, so he's not hungry now. But then the next day Zoro approached him to call him out on his bullshit. He would end up pushing him away eventually, maybe if he started being meaner and more standoffish from now, it would seem less of a problem when Zoro leaves him.

Still, Sanji didn't know how to deflect the accusations, so he did what he did best and agitated him best he could. It led to a fight that Sanji lost. Not eating was more draining than he thought. They would usually tie or at least have someone interfere but he was out in less that five minutes. He was weak. As punishment, he decided he would stop eating dinner altogether.

He was good with food. He's known food all his life, and it's the only thing that he feels like he could control. So at least that, he could do.

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

   Hello! So my little rant from the other day inspired a concept for a whole new fic and I just couldn't resist writing it! I have no idea what to call this which is why I'm posting it here before a03. If anyone has any suggestions let me know. (I was thinking sins of the father but i think there's already a Quaritch and Spider fic with that name)

Anyway the premise is that the recoms were grown on Pandora instead of Earth. Instead of just killing them it's decided that they'll just keep them comatose in their pods. Until a system failure wakes them up. Spider is only seven in this fic.

Edit: I have since named this fic. It's called Visited on the Son (thank you @nilnether for helping me pick the name) and you can find it on Ao3 here

Enjoy!

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 He always felt calm in the tank room under the blue glow of the synthetic amniotic fluid. The only sounds came from the steady heartbeats of the sleeping Na’vi and the idol chatter of his best friend Kiri as she talked to her comatose mother. Spider sat, staring up at his father floating peacefully in his pod. He placed his hand on the glass, as if his touch could make the man wake up. But he never would. He wasn’t allowed to wake up.

     “I went to the village today,” the seven year old said in a hush. “Me and my friends made bracelets! Until their sa’nu made me come back here. I don’t like here very much sempu. It’s….cold. But at least Kiri came back with me for a little bit. Until she has to go back home, to her family…..”

     The door burst open making both children jump. “Miles!” Spider shrank in fear as his foster father stormed up to him. Mr. McCosker grabbed Spider’s arm, yanking him to his feet so hard he thought his arm would rip from its socket. “Did you go to the village without permission again!” The little boy whimpered, trying to avoid the man screaming in his face. “Answer me!” Nash shook him.

       “Yes,” Spider cried.

       “How many times do I have to tell you! No one wants you there!”

       “I want him there,” Kiri yelled, “and so do my brothers!”

        Spider smiled despite the tears in his eyes. Nash growled, “well the adults don’t want him there. And you know better than to just run off…”

        “But you were busy,” Spider said timidly, “I just wanted to play…”

         Nash roughly pulled on his arm again making Spider yelp, “oh you just wanted to play,” his foster father mocked, “you can play by yourself! Do you have any idea the trouble you cause every time you do this!” Nash spun him around to face his sempu. “You're just like your father. A wicked little beast. Why they even bother keeping these things alive is beyond me. It’s a waste of time and resources. Just like you.” Spider’s bottom lip trembled but he didn’t shed a tear. He was used to Mr.McCosker’s angry rants. “Now come on! I hope you like your room because you're gonna be spending a lot of time in there thinking about what you did. And you can forget about dinner….” 

       Spider locked eyes with Kiri as he was dragged from the room. He waved, giving her a sad smile, mouthing bye. He knew she wanted to fight for him. They’d been through this all before and so she knew that Spider would rather she stay out of it. Still she smoldered with rage, fist clenched at her sides. Spider spared one last glance at his father’s tank before being completely taken from the room. Bye sempu. 

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       That night as Spider tried and failed to sleep with his painfully empty stomach an alarm sounded through all of Hell’s Gate having the entire base up and moving in moments. Spider covered his ears burying himself under his blankets as red lights flashed. This had never happened before. What is this? What should I do? He could faintly hear his foster parents through the noise, Mr.McCosker stomping through the apartment and out the door, Mrs. McCosker pacing the living room as she made a call. But Spider didn’t want to go to them. He didn’t want to be anywhere near them.

     He focused his attention through the small window above his bed. The floodlights were on outside as people ran back and forth. He knew deep down that something was seriously wrong. But it couldn’t be too bad if his foster parents hadn’t come to get him. They wouldn’t just leave him behind, right? Eywa help me, he silently prayed.

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     The first thing he was aware of was the heaviness of his own breathing. Then came the sound of his heart beating slow and steady. Next was the feeling of floating. Finally as his senses returned he opened his eyes to a mix of soft shimmering blue light and harsh flashing red. What in the fuck, Miles thought as he took it all in. He was in a tank. He raised his fist to beat on the glass, making him see his body for the first time.

      Ain’t this a bitch. He was na’vi now. Which only meant one thing. Focus he willed himself. First order of business was getting out of the tank. He’d deal with the rest later. Miles placed his hand on the glass, getting a scene of its thickness. Too thick to break. He looked towards his feet then above his head finding exactly what he’d hoped. An escape hatch. A few good twists was all it took for him to spill out of the container onto the linoleum floor of the labs.

      His eyes roved his surroundings. The computers blared a message of system failure. No doubt the reason he woke up. To his right was the exit. To his left a row of familiar faces all wide eyed and banging on their tanks for release. Miles stumbled as he rose on unsteady alien legs. He persevered making his way to the other tanks, freeing his team one by one. “What’s going on boss,” Lyle said.

      “Isn’t it obvious? We died. And now we're back.”

       Lyle rolled his eyes, “I get that but this…”

       “We weren’t supposed to wake up,” Z said, staring at the computer screen, “and if we’re only waking up because of a computer glitch….” She let the implication hang in the air as they all sprung into action, dressing in whatever clothes the avatars had left behind, making weapons from broken chair legs and glass shards, each looping a na’vi breathing mask around their neck.

       “Alright people,” Miles said when they were ready, “for our sins in our past life we have been brought back as the enemy. In enemy territory no less. We don’t know what things look like past those doors so be ready for anything. Head on a swivel,” his team nodded, “alright. Let’s move out.” They made their way down the red lit hall in formation, Miles leading them. Aside from the alarm it was eerily quiet. All the personnel must have been off somewhere dealing with the system failure.

         It only took a few quick glances for Miles to know exactly where he was. Hell’s Gate. Home sweet home. He knew this place like the back of his hand. He led his team not to the control center but to the living quarters. They’d surely be able to take some hostages there, grill them for more information. How long had it been? Who was in command? What happened to the R.D.A. His team's survival hinged on these answers.

        The hallway of apartments was deserted, doors left ajar from hasty exits. They searched the rooms one by one, not a soul in sight. “Maybe we should just run while we have the chance,” said Lyle, “we don’t need masks to breathe out there anymore. We can survive…”

        “I’m not runnin’ like a coward,” Miles growled. He needed to know what happened. Not only in the war but also to…

        They entered the final apartment on the right hand side of the hall. Just like all the others the place had been fled in a hurry, all the doors left open. Except for one. Miles raised his fist signaling, hold tight on me. Cautiously he opened the door to find a child’s room. The furniture was small, made for a toddler but the few articles of clothing strewn about the room suggested a child in the age range of six to eight. Miles’ eyes zeroed in on a form, too big for its little bed, curled up in its sheets. “Prager,” he called, “kill that alarm would y’a.” Prager nodded, expertly having the wires of the screaming red light out and severed in seconds plunging them into blissful silence. 

         Who could leave a child behind like this, Miles thought as the form shifted. Big brown eyes peaked out at him, wide and curious, not an ounce of fear. Miles dropped down to the kids level, “hi there,” he said gently reaching out to pull the cover back.

         “You're awake,” the child said in an awed hush.

          That made Miles still, “you know me?”

          The kid nodded under the covers, “they said you’d never wake up.”

          “Who said that?”

           “Jake, Norm, the McCoskers. Everyone. They said you were too bad to wake up. So if you're awake does that mean you're not bad anymore? Or was I bad enough to be put to sleep…”

          A chill went up Miles' spine, “why would they put you to sleep? You're just a kid.”

         “Because I’m bad. The McCosker’s tell me all the time. And Mrs.Sully says I’m a demon's son…

         Miles sucked in a breath. Mrs.Sully. Jake’s little na’vi girlfriend, the one that made him turn traitor. He knew exactly who would draw her hatred enough to damn a son for their father’s sins. A dangerous hope flaired to life but he fought to push it down. It’s not him. They would have sent him back to Earth. “Can you sit up please so I can get a look at you,” he coaxed the boy. 

        He complied, wrapping the sheets around his shoulders. The boy reached out a little hand touching Miles face, “your real. You really woke up sempu.”

      Miles hardly knew any na’vi but he knew that word for sure. He studied the boy in front of him knowing in his gut that he was his. He had his father’s brow and nose. His mother’s cheeks, her smile. Most importantly their son had the brown eyes of Miles’ lover, the woman he knew without a doubt was dead. She’d never leave her son behind like this. Wouldn’t let this little boy's long, dry, blond hair, start to mat in places. The kid's stomach rumbled. She wouldn’t let him go hungry. “Miles?”

         He nodded, “yeah, but people only use that name when I’m bad. Most people call me Spider.”

        Miles hid his scowl, masking it with a huff of a laugh, “why do they call you that?”

        Spider perked up, giving him a sunny smile that melted his father’s heart, “because I like to climb!”  Miles chuckled for real at his son’s clear enthusiasm. It’s just a nickname, he reasoned with himself. It would be easier than having two Miles’.

        Spider’s smile slipped as his stomach growled again, making him wrap his arms around himself. Miles scowled. “Who’s closest to the kitchen,” he called.

        “Me,” Mansk answered.

         “Grab somethin’ for my boy to eat would y’a…”

         “But…The McCosker’s will get mad at me. I’m in trouble for leaving and if I…”

         “Who are the McCosker’s,” Miles asked with an undertone of malice. Who ever they were he already hated them.

         Spider averted his gaze, mumbling, “they’re my foster parents…”

         Miles lifted the boy’s little head looking him square in the eye, “well daddy’s back now. And I say you're gonna eat.” Mansk entered with a sandwich cut in half. “Come here.” Spider watched curiously as his father stood but clearly panicked when the man picked him up, sitting on the bed and settling Spider on his lap in one swift movement. Miles took note of his son’s clear distress. He was rigid in his arms, blank faced. The father bounced his son on his knee trying to calm him down. Mansk handed the sandwich to Miles who then offered a bite to Spider. Hesitantly he took it.

         “Good boy,” Miles said gently, rubbing his son’s back. Whether it was the praise or the touch Spider slightly relaxed. “Is it good?” Spider gave a small happy nod. Miles smiled back. “Good. Now what do you say to uncle Mansk?”

        Spider turned to the recom, “thank you.” 

        He sounded so sweet that the hardened soldiers in the room couldn’t help but melt. “You're welcome,” Mansk said. 

        “Spider,” Miles called, drawing his son’s attention, “how old are you now.”

        “Seven,” he answered absentmindedly, enjoying his meal.

         Seven. Making it roughly six years since the war. “A big boy,” Miles bounced his son again, eliciting a little giggle from the boy that made his father grin, his heart warming. “You know when you were little I was in charge around here. Do you know who’s in charge now?”

        “Jake,” Spider said without a care. The rest of the room quietly took in this information. If that traitor was running things now then they’d have to play their cards right if they wanted to get out of this one alive. 

        “He’s quite the fighter. I know we couldn’t take him, or his army,” Miles said keeping his tone light hearted for his son’s sake. His team was smart enough to catch on to what he really meant. Spider nodded his agreement. “Say, why’d Jake keep us asleep?” Miles said while tucking his son’s hair behind his ear so he wouldn’t accidentally eat it as he devoured his food.

       Spider shrugged, “I heard him say once that only a coward would kill a man in his sleep. That’s why I guess.”

       Miles could respect that. If Jake was honorable enough to not strike when they were most vulnerable, Miles was willing to bet that Jake would at least put them through some sort of trial before executing them. And that would open up a whole world of possibilities. “That was mighty kind of him. I’d sure like to thank him for keeping us all alive and thrivin’.”

      Spider’s eyes lit up, “you do?”

      Miles nodded, “sure I do!” His team displayed a mix of emotions as his real intentions set it. They were surrendering. 

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        Jake led the recoms like dogs on a leash, their hands bound and bodies tied together in a line, avatars keeping them on track with loaded guns. “Quite the trek gettin’ to your little village,” Miles said.

       Jake scowled, “don’t talk to me.”

       “What’s the matter Jake? We can’t have a nice conversation together?” Jake pointedly ignored him. “You all really let my boy walk all the way to the village by himself?”

       “He’s not your son,” Jake hissed.

        “I beg to differ. You can’t call him a demon’s son then turn around and say he doesn’t belong to me.” Jake smoldered with rage but stayed quiet. “Unless you're saying that I am not in fact Miles Quaritch, in which case me and my team can’t be held accountable for the actions of our genetic predecessors…”

      “Of course your Quaritch,” Jake snapped, “that body is nothing but a blank slate. It’d sleep forever without some kind of driver…”

     “So that means I’m Miles Quaritch, father of Miles “Spider” Socorro….” Jake growled, walking faster, harshly tugging on his leads to make the recoms do the same. The recoms all snickered. “I should thank you though Jake for not slandering me in front of my son. He knows I’m “bad” but doesn’t seem to know how bad…”

      “It wasn’t intentional. How the hell are you supposed to tell a kid his father is responsible for the deaths of hundreds.”

      “Fair.” They quieted as they approached the village. The Omatikaya lined the walkway screaming and hissing as the recoms were led to the heart of the village. Their tsahik Mo’at waited there with her daughter at her side, Neytiri’s teeth bared and snarling. Miles inclined his head to her as the recoms were lined up, “Mrs. Sully.”

      “Demon!” Neytiri lunged at him, knife in hand.

       “Daughter,” her mother held up her hand, placating Neytiri. She backed down but still stood ready to strike. Mo’at fixed them with a hard stare that even Miles felt uneasy under. She walked around them picking at their ears and tails, analyzing them coldly. Once she was satisfied she stood before them, the entire village waiting with bated breath for her verdict. To the shock of all, the tsahik laughed. “Ah, the great mother knows what she’s doing. You demons who so brutally destroyed our home and slaughtered our people. With no respect for the great balance! Eywa has made you one of us so you could connect and feel the devastation you brought among the people!” The villagers all screamed their agreements. “I can think of no greater punishment than to make you learn our ways. Make you understand and feel what you have done until you are so remorseful that you weep at the foot of the Tree of Souls and beg the great mother for forgiveness!” The village roared.

       Miles stood there in shock. He’d expected to have to plead his case. Argue that his team were clones of their predecessors. That they couldn’t be held accountable for what they’d done. “So…your not gonna execute us?”

       Mo’at looked at him in confusion, not understanding his words. Jake said, “Na’vi don’t do executions. They banish their criminals to the ash lands. But I’d tried to convince Mo’at to make an exception for you.”

      Miles grinned, “well it looks like you failed…” Mo’at raped him with her walking stick right between his eyes making Miles stumble back. 

     “Do not think you are getting off easy! If you want to live then you will learn our ways. If you refuse I have no issue banishing you from this land. Then your fate will truly lie with Eywa.”

     “Yes ma’am.” Miles bowed his head to her, the other recoms following suit. 

     “You will come back here tomorrow and every day after until your insanity is cured,” they nodded their agreement, “good. Now away with you!” The clan jeered and hissed as Jake led them back towards Hell’s Gate.

      When they were well away from the village Miles spoke, “well, now that that’s settled, let’s talk about my boy…”

       Jake scowled, “no..”

       “I want back custody…”

        “Absolutely not!”

        “Tell me Jake, what happened last night?” Jake paused. Knowing exactly where this was going he stayed silent. “I know Hells Gate better than anyone. If anything goes haywire the systems automatically reroute power to keep the control room and the cafeteria powered and oxygenated. That’s what happened last night and those damn McCoskers left Spider behind to die! How long do you think it would’ve taken for the living quarters to run out of oxygen….”

       Jake sighed, “Where having a meeting with the McCoskers when we get back…”

       “And I want to be there..”

       “No.”

       “He’s my son! They sure as hell don’t want him! Do you want him Jake?” He shifted uncomfortably, choosing not to answer. “How about you? Do you want my kid,” Miles asked Norm. Norm also stayed quiet. “Is there a single person on that base that could give my son a lovin’ home…”

       “We’re going to work something out…”

        “Yeah you're gonna give me my kid.” Jake clenched his jaw, choosing to ignore Miles for the rest of the walk.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

         “We don’t want him anymore,” Nash said, “he’s too wild. We’re having our own baby soon…and now that his father’s back…”

         “Quaritch can’t have Spider,” Jake said.

          “Why not? We’re not executing him, we’re not really imprisoning him and he wants the kid. I say let him have his little bastard…”

          “Don’t call him that!” Jake yelled, fighting to maintain some level of calm.

           Norm gave his friend a sympathetic smile, “we can’t let Spider stay with Nash and Mary anymore. Not after last night…” Nash didn’t even seem guilty over leaving a child to die, “….and remember the last time we had to find a placement for Spider…” Jake most certainly did. No one had been willing to take the boy. They’d had to twist Nash’s arm just to accept Spider in the first place, which was now blowing up in their faces in spectacular fashion. 

          “I don’t want Quaritch to win here…”

          “It’s not about that Jake. It’s what’s best for Spider..”

          “How could that monster be what’s best for him!”

           “It’s better than nothing!” Jake scoffed, “We’ll watch Quaritch like a hawk. If anything happens to Spider we’ll take him away in a second…”

          “Oh come on now,” the man in question finally said, “i’m a lot of things but do you really think I’d hurt my own child!”

         “We wouldn’t be having this conversation otherwise,” Jake snapped.

          “You put Spider in the custody of two people who left him to die! Who let him starve! What else have they been doing right under your nose?” Jake had the decency to look guilty.

         Nash waved him off, “let him have his kid Jake. It’ll be enough punishment for him.” Jake had to stop Quaritch from lunging across the table to throttle Nash, the recom turning purple from how incensed he was.

       “Fine!” Jack shouted if only to stop Quaritch from committing murder, “you can take custody of Spider! But if you hurt him I swear…”

       “Pff..” Quaritch shook him off, “please. I couldn’t do any worse than you.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

        The recoms were locked into the avatar quarters for the night. Not that they minded. It finally gave them a chance to speak openly after their first chaotic day in their new bodies. “So we’re really just gonna go along with all this boss,” Prager asked.

        Miles nodded, “the R.D.A is gone. For now at least. We hang tight, learn the savages way, worm our way into the rebels' operations. We’ll be sitting real pretty when the company makes their comeback.” Everyone grinned, a few cheering for their new found mission. Miles couldn’t help but smile back, “alright now get some shut eye. We got a long day tomorrow.” The others nodded agreements before settling into bed. Miles did the same. He smiled to himself thinking about tomorrow. First they’d have their silly ass lessons in the village. But then they’d start renovations on Miles' apartment from back in the day, getting it all ready for Spider to move in. A home for me and my son. He couldn’t wait.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Hope you liked it! I do know how I'm ending this fic already but if you have any ideas for bonding/learning moments that you'd like to see I'll be happy to write them.💞  

[remindingpersephone]

Curveballs

When life gives you . . . stitches? So I had to have a cyst removed from my back and it was a big boy, so it took 13 stitches to close that hole up (there are so many jokes here). The doc said no lifting, no stretching, because stitches on the back (it's actually closer to shoulder) can rip easily. Since I can't get into the pool - healing wound = no soaking - and it's 9,823 degrees outside so no walking, my living room workouts are the only option. But when I do those it's a lot of arm flailing and improvising because I cannot follow choreography to save my life.

Now, there was a time when I would have used these restrictions as an excuse to completely abandon my fitness goals. I would stop all cardio, sit on the couch, eat way too many brownies, and totally derail my fitness progress.

But this time was different. I've kept up with all lower body strength workouts, and for cardio I bought an under-the-desk, mini-bike-peddle machine. Now, no one is going to mistake this for a real bike. But let me tell you I have gotten my heart rate way the hell up on that little thing. And I can keep my upper body stabile so as not to rip those stitches.

I've also been trying out intermittent fasting, although it didn't really start out with that as the goal. I wanted to see if I was eating because I was hungry, or just out of habit/schedule/when I thought I should eat. Also, my 6:30am breakfasts were starting to feel like habit instead of hunger. So I stopped eating until I was actually hungry. Turns out I'm not really hungry until about 11:30 AM. I also stopped eating after 8PM at night. I had always been a late dinner and even later dessert/snacker. Not only has eating mostly between the hours of 11:30am and 7:30pm helped my digestion, it's lowered my overall calorie intake. It's also making me stop and really think if I'm actually hungry before I eat. Do I need that snack or am I just bored? Do I need that treat or am I just emotional? I know the word "intuitive" is over-used these days, but that's pretty much what I did.

Now, I know tomorrow or next week this could all change. I am a person who not only embraces change, but seeks it out. I am always changing things up in small and large ways. Sometimes routines work for me and sometimes they don't. I'm getting better at not trying to force myself to do things just because the generally accepted wisdom says I should. Or the current trends are encouraging this thing or that thing.

Since we're talking about health, I will tell you I've cut way back on my social media consumption. It just got to a point where I was internalizing a lot of what I was reading and watching, and as we all know, a lot of what's on social media is negative. That negativity was having a bigger effect on me than I realized. Until that over-exposure was gone, I couldn't make the connection on some unexpected effects it was having. Sorry, I'm not intentionally trying to be vague. I just can't really explain it other than to say reducing my exposure to the ugliness and fear that perpetuates even Tumblr and Instagram has had a positive effect on my state of mind. This is a long and rambly way of me saying I'm sorry if I haven't been hearting and commenting on my mutuals posts like I once had. I try to pop in when I can, and I really do read what I heart. I just can't consume it at the rate I once did. But please know that I am always here for DMs and you can email me at anindependentguinevere {at} g mail dot com anytime you want to chat or need support. I am here for that always.

Wow, that was way longer than I intended. Hugs and kisses to those you who made it all the way through. Now let's go get some ice cream!

[coffehbeans]

Gt WAC Day 23

"A story with a nonhuman/ monstrous character"

THIS, this was a challenge to write ahsushus I'm so nervous cause it took me SO long and as per usual I'm still unsure about it.

This story is based on a dream I had a month ago, I was writing it since then so i could post it on day 23 of gtwac. So yep, new character. It's different from what I've wrote so far, but I hope you guys enjoy it!

Depending on the reception of this story I will continue it, but fair warning that it'll not be a happy one (IF I continue it).

I'm not sure if I'll rate this chapter in particular as above PG-13, but general warning for overall spooky, unsettling vibes.

Enjoy!

........................................................................................

Edward Becker has not seen his wife in seven years.

People called him crazy for waiting for her return. "She's done for", someone mentioned. "Why don't you find another one?", someone suggested, all falling in deaf ears as every single day, he'd go back from work, sit by the porch, and wait for her until the sun went down. A useless effort, as they said, a delusional hope, or the sign of going mad. But for Edward, it was his strength. The only support for his failed attempts at finding her. His last pillar of sanity that made him get up every morning and wait for her until nightfall. His wife would come back, like she always did. She would come back to his open arms, embrace him gently like she used to, cover him with kisses as he pulled her close. They would giggle and enter their home, enjoy a nice meal they cooked together, talking about their day during dinner, about plans for rebuilding their house, plans for a new job he wanted to get, plans about their future children. When night falls, they would sleep holding each other tight, relishing in their shared warmth.

All he had to do was wait for her by the porch.

...

One day, she did comeback.

It was past midnight. So dark and cold outside, most animals have gone to sleep, making the woods around his remote home dead silent. The cows and chickens of his small farm uttered no sound as they slept, and the wind billowed the wheat fields outside, his plain wooden house colored pitch black by the late-night sky. It was a weathered home, well kept indoors but in need of repairs, with ripped, dingy furniture and leaks on the roof. It was protected by a measly three-feet-tall fence that threatened to fall apart, and over the backyard, where the overgrown grass was blown by the wind, laid a simple wooden shed meant for storing farming equipment. Tossing and turning on his bed, Edward sat up with a jolt, sweat dripping on his face as anxiety threatened to eat him whole. He sighed, holding his face in his trembling hands, and letting out a shaky breath. He couldn't fall asleep in those nights, where the memory of Cordelia haunted his mind in his dreams, ones where she wore desperate expressions as she's dragged away from him by detached, withered hands, and no matter how much he ran, he didn't reach her. Nightmares where he found her dead body, pale and laying limp, lifeless eyes staring at him. Nightmares where he found her hurt, bleeding and beaten up, face covered by bruises ­– in most nights, those visions would plague him.

With a shiver, Edward got up, lighting up the oil lantern. He trudged for the kitchen, on his way to do the same as usual: put some water over the wood burning stove, boil it, try this new tea his friend had brought for him, and drink it aimlessly, hoping in vain for sleep to come back.

He sluggishly put wood pieces inside the firebox, reaching a hand for the lighter on the table. A flicker, two, and the fire was lit. He put the kettle over the stove with a clank, and stared at it blankly, waiting for bubbles to form. The house was pitch black, only the flickering flames of the stove and the lamp’s dim glow illuminated the room.

A loud sizzling of the kettle snapped Edward out of his torpor as the water boiled. He picked the hot handle, feeling its heat burning his skin, lifted it from the fire and — THUMP. A loud thud by the window behind him sent him jumping, fumbling with the kettle in his hands, heartbeat skyrocketing. He banged it on the table. Hot droplets prickled his hand. He turned around with rapid breaths. A blurred shadow dashed away from the window, sending a cold chill down his spine, the wind howling and heavy thuds echoing outside the house’s walls. Rhythmical and constant. Pounding on the ground. Edward sucked in a breath, head ringing against his skull. He stomped towards the cabinet containing his shotgun. There were thieves? In the middle of the night? Were they finally coming to steal a poor and mad man's house? He wouldn't allow it.

He can’t die yet. Not until Cordelia comes back to him.

Loading the gun with precise clicks, Edward aimed it at the window, darting his aim from window to window until he reached the door, the last place he heard the strange sound. With trembling hands over the trigger, his eyes focused on an invisible target. He held his breath, standing still. Not a single sound. Ears trained on any disturbance. THUMP. THUMP. A shadow passed by the window to his right. BANG!

He twisted his body and shot, missing the shadow by an inch.

"W-who's there!?" He shouted in a trepid tone.

No answer. Not even a sound. Maybe the sound of breathing. He couldn't tell. He couldn't tell if it was someone's breathing or his own.

The “sshhhs” and “thuds” echoed around him, heading towards the backyard. Edward adjusted the position of the gun in his arms.

He took a deep breath.

Edward ran to the back door and slammed it open with a kick, pointing the trembling shotgun towards the field. The sky was pitch-black outside, engulfing the horizon with its inky tint, and the stars didn't dare approach the darkness. The faint moonlight was partially obscured by the clouds, its glow too weak to lighten the outdoors. He huffed, feeling the weight of his gun, and headed further into the backyard with measured steps. His shoes crunched the grass below, the dry air amplifying the sound of his stride. Deadly silence filled the field. A puff of smoke left his nostrils as warm exhale met with the frigid air. Tightening the grip around the gun, he aimed it at the decrepit shed. Waiting for movement. Eyes trained forward. The dark blur of a large silhouette shifted behind it.

BANG.

He shot. Once. Twice. The sound of the bullets making his ears ring, metal creating holes in the aged wood. A loud, high-pitched, and definitely human scream cried behind it.

He stopped shooting, heart leaping to his throat. A weight plunked in his insides, making him loose the tight grip on his gun. Behind the shed, he heard it. A gasp. A whimper. A sob. Clearly feminine. Edward lowered the gun, furrowing his brows as the cries made a lump form inside his throat. A trick to let his guard down? A trap? It must be a trick for sure. No way an innocent person would show up in the middle of the night. No, there's no way. Goosebumps trailed down his back as the cries reached his ears. Why was there even someonehere?

The sobbing got louder, echoing in the cold, dark night. He shivered when the shrill voice reverberated in his ears, an uncomfortable knot twisting in his stomach at the thought he could have shot an innocent woman.

"Who... Who's there?" He repeated, cautious this time, as if talking to a cowering animal.

The sobs dwindled little by little. He didn't dare move. The figure was hidden behind the shed, not even the faint moonlight giving a glimpse of its appearance.

Finally, he heard it: that feminine voice. Frail, faint, and so utterly scared.

Its familiarity so potent, something clogged in his throat.

"... Ed..."

That voice. The voice he waited for so many years by the porch. The voice he dreamed of in his sleep. Screaming. Crying for help. Calling for his name.

"... Edward..."

The same voice that recited sweet words of so much care, so much love and adoration to him every day. The voice that followed a gentle embrace, the smell of perfume and a prolonged kiss. The same voice that said "I do" by the altar over 12 years ago, that whispered close to his ear, giggling with joy. The voice that chatted to him relentlessly, which he couldn't get enough of. The voice that laughed, cried, shouted, only to say sweet words of gentle love again. That melodic yet striking voice. Edward didn't notice the tears falling from his face. Didn't notice the gun falling to the ground. Didn't notice his feet moving on his own, towards the shed, towards the faint possibility that she was behind it. He stumbled faster towards it, raising a trembling hand. "C-Cordelia?!" "NO! DON'T COME CLOSER!" The powerful shout made him stop dead on his tracks, ears complaining from its sheer force. He never heard his wife sound so... Desperate. In panic. "... H-honey...?" "Pl-please... D-don't come closer yet." She said, her voice returning to its normal pitch, but shaking with trepidation.

  "W-what's wrong...? Did I –"

Then he remembered it. The gun. The shootings. The fact he almost killed his own wife. His heart sank, face turning pale, his voice hoarse.

"Oh God. It's - it's really you, it was you and I almost, I-I a-almost... A-are you hurt? Are you bleeding? I –"

Edward took more shaking steps towards it, the nightmare of his dead wife still clear in his mind.

"NO!" - He stopped again. - "I-I'm fine! I'm not hurt, you d-didn’t hit me."

Edward covered his face with a hand and stopped himself from wanting to vomit.

"Cordelia I'm- ... I-I'm so, so sorry I thought it was a thief, I..."

He lowered his head, and took a shaky breath.

"Am I going crazy? Is – is it r-really you?! I, I waited for s-so long – I thought you were dead —!"

Tears poured desperately from Edward's eyes, his attempts to stop his sobs coming in vain. He hiccupped under his cries, breathing rapidly as reality came crashing down and years of restrained emotion leaked out. The voice sounded just like her. The voice could really be her.

‘Then, if it’s her, why is she hiding?’

"Please, d-dear, if it's really you..." - he whispered, his voice croaky and dry. Tears continued to fall.

"Please let me see you..." The shed grew eerily silent. Cold air made him quiver. A silent second spread throughout the night, the sounds of his sobs echoing through the pitch-black darkness. "I... I can't."

She whispered back in a shaky voice. Unsure. Afraid. Edward raised his head, glancing to the fallen gun on the grass, a realization hitting deep inside his stomach. "Are you scared of me...?" A pause. He heard her sucking in a breath. A long, deep exhale was carried by the wind. Her voice faint and trembling. "N-no... Dear, I... I'm not scared of you." The shed's wood creaked, like something was gripping it and scratching it down. "...I'm scared of myself." Edward's guilty expression changed to confusion. He furrowed his brows. A part of him wanted to giggle. His adorable wife, scared of herself? Why? She always had some impatience and anger she was discontent about, but even so... That made no sense. The way she acted, hiding from him, made no sense. Another part of Edward felt an odd sense of dread. As if something was not right. "Honey, why are you hiding from me? I... I waited for so long... I-I searched everywhere for you, and when I couldn't find anything, I waited. And when I couldn't wait anymore, I prayed. I hoped. I-I never paid attention to what the others said, even if they called me crazy." He took a step towards the shed. She sucked in a breath. Edward didn't notice more tears started to pour from his face. "And it's you, r-right? It's you who's behind here, right? Alive and well? Please dear... Don't let me think I've gone crazy!" He took another step closer. Then another. She whimpered behind the decrepit barn. Edward's vision was blurry from his own tears, but he didn't care anymore. He just needed to see her, even if it wasn't true. Even if he died.

Gosh, he just wanted to see her.

"Honey, DON'T!" The sheer loudness of her rigid voice made him stop dead on his tracks again. He opened his mouth, ready to protest, but Cordelia interrupted him.

"It's n-not... It's not that I'm not alive and well, Edward..." "So why are y-"

"...I-it's that I don't know what I am anymore..." He paused. That uneasy sense of dread sank heavier inside him. "What...? Cordelia, what do you mean-" "If I," – She interrupted, taking a deep breath. – "If I really come out of this shed, Will you promise, promise me that you will not run?" A shiver ran down his spine. Heartbeat rocked harder against his chest. Something's not right. Something's clearly not right. But Edward planted his feet firmly on the ground. It was his wife's voice. He lost her seven years ago. He doesn't know what happened to her in that time. She could be different from how she looked back then, hurt and bruised from whatever abuse they inflicted on her. Rage bubbled up inside him. Whoever did anything to her, he would kill them in cold blood. They would pay for taking her away from him. Being hurt and disfigured by her captors… That was probably what Cordelia meant.

There was no need for him to feel so nervous.

"You know I love you, dear... No matter what. You know I'd never run away from you... So why would you even ask that?"

"Please, Edward." She said louder than he expected. Desperate. Too desperate. "Please promise you won't run." The moonlight cast over the shed, the little gaps between the wooden plates showing a faint shadow behind it. A hulking mass, piled up like a bundle of hay, a head peeking out of the lump as if there was no body attached to it. Edward's eyes widened, heart drumming faster in his chest. Cold sweat scurried down his forehead. 'What is that?' And yet, he couldn't deny the pleading voice of his wife, sounding exactly as she did seven years ago. It couldn't possibly not be her. Something grave must have happened when she was gone, and that's why she was so afraid. Yes, that's most likely it.

So Edward gulped his nervousness down, and wiped the sweat from his face.

"Honey... I promise I won't run away from you... I would never run away from you."

A light, quiet wail whispered in the cold night, slowly dwindling down. A sniff sounded behind the shed. A long inhale and exhale belonging to powerful lungs.

Silence.

"... Alright."

And the heavy sound of something dragging over the earth.

A form encased in shadow peeked from the wooden walls over fourteen feet above him. Edward took a while to notice the large silhouette was a head. His wife's head. It was truly, truly her! Looking just like he remembered and – pale. So sickeningly pale. A dark and somber expression covered her face. Her eyes were baggy and downcast, white lips trembling. But more importantly, he couldn't understand why she has so high up.

"P-please..." - she uttered, almost to herself. - Please don't run..." Gargantuan claws appeared next to her, black, sharp nails curling over the creaking wood. A long, bony hand covered by charcoal scales. His wife pressed her eyes firmly shut. Edward took a step back, his mouth going dry. The sinking feeling in his stomach cut deeper. And then he saw why she was so high up.

The rest of her appeared under the pale moonlight, her form triple of a human size. A gigantic torso loomed over him like a small tree, covering him in her shadow. She wore nothing on her, long, mahogany hair covering her chest.

Then he looked down.

Black and yellow scales jutted out of her skin, covering her lower half, legs attached together in a single, cylindrical body that twitched and writhed as it came closer. The thick tail uncoiled behind the shed, extending further and further to Edward's right, so much so it could envelop around him if it moved. With loud thumps, Cordelia's massive form fell on the ground, hair obscuring her downcast face. Black talons gripped the soil as she pushed herself forward. Rough and coarse scales scraping against the earth as the hulking, round tail crunched the grass and lugged over it like a corpse dragging on the dirt. Rocks broke with a sickening "crunch" under its weight.

Edward's face contorted in shock. He took one, two steps back, eyes widening in horror, shaken to the core as his heart jumped in his throat. Pounding harder against his ribcage.

It was a gargantuan something, half snake, half something that resembled human. Resembled his wife. He mumbled incomprehensibly. Primal fear took over him. A crying, shaky voice resounded from the creature's mouth. A clawed hand the size of his head reaching out to him. "P-please... Edward..." He ran. He screamed bloody murder and dashed back towards his house, hearing it holler back his name. Tears fell from his eyes, desperation taking hold of his body. A deafening sound of thumps and scratches came from behind him, growing closer, coming for him.

"WAIT–!" Tha thing can’t be his wife. Whatever it was it could not be his wife. It shouldn't be his wife. It shouldn't be human. He ran through the house's corridors, left became right and up became down and the crunches behind him grew louder and louder and he had to hide, he had to hide but there was nothing in his room aside from the cold, old bed so he bolted, ran and ducked under it, mumbling shaky prayers, begging to heavens for his life. Begging that he was hallucinating. To not die to someone who looked so much like her.

That couldn't be real. He heaved. It can't be real, can't be real can't be real it can’t – He's gone crazy. Yes, that must be it. He's finally gone mad and that’s why.

But the cracks of the floorboards under the creature's weight sounded far too real for him to doubt. The scratching of the claws over the ground as it dragged its gargantuan body caused a fear too intense for him to doubt. The cracking of the walls as it squeezed itself inside felt too real for him to doubt. Edward clamped his mouth shut with a shaking hand, curling up under the bed and closing his eyes tight. If he remained immovable, if he remained silent, maybe it wouldn't find him. Maybe he wouldn't die. He gulped down a whimper that threatened to escape from his throat. Cordelia's voice resonated from the creature's mouth again. Weak, raspy, and grieving. It was a strategy to lure him out. Yes. That was probably it. It couldn't possibly be something else. Because that huge monster with crude scales couldn't be his wife, with soft skin and flowing hair, with her dress that billowed in the wind when they walked over green fields together. No. That thing could not be her. "Edward... Please, I-I..." She whispered under her heavy sobs. Loud thumps echoed outside the room. "I won't hurt you... Please believe me!"

The sobs that sounded so much like her broke his heart in half. But he remembered to what it belonged to. He would not fall for it. Even if he wanted to scream for help, knowing that no one would come. Even if a part of him wanted nothing more than believe it was all true and run towards its scaly arms. He gulped down his screams of fear, and remained silent. Frozen. Unmoving. He would not fall for it

The scrapes and scratches got louder. Scales hissed over the floorboards that chirred in protest.

"I'm not a monster. I'm not –" A claw unhinged itself from the floor and the creature raised itself up. A loud bump thundered on the ceiling, a shocked gasp echoed in the dry air. Edward clutched his eyes shut. Dust and debris fell on the ground. The monster laid down again, a heavy bang thundering in the silent house. The floorboards groaned as it settled on the ground.

"If you... If you look at me like that again, I-I think I'll go crazy... I can't stand it!"

Loud sobs filled the house. Edward flinched and clutched his eyes shut, breathing heavily, curling further inside himself. He resisted the urge to break down into tears.

The dragging and shuffling got heavier. The floorboards of his bedroom, the ones he was currently laid over, creaked in complaint of the weight being placed upon them. The sound got louder. Closer.

It was entering his room.

He sucked in a quivering gasp. Heart threatening to escape his throat, he shook as if the room was freezing cold, tears cascading down his face at the thought that he really could die now. He would die. He would die. Maybe he should. Maybe she should just end him.

He saw it. The black and yellow scales, shimmering as it moved. The snake body crawling as it reached the door, so massive it got stuck in the door frame. A push or two and it got free, the walls around it cracked, dust fell around him and a crunching sound reverberated in the room. Black claws scraped the ground, wood screeching in the deafening silence. A towering human body, pale torso as tall as him, laid down, auburn locks of hair trailing on the floor. The face obscured by its raised head.

It stopped moving. He looked at its skin with heaving breaths and widened eyes.

They remained still for what felt like an eternity. The only sound was his own heartbeat, his breathing and the creature's. The tail twitched and thumped against the walls with a loud noise. He flinched as his eyes darted back and forth, hearing the friction of scales against wood.

Silence.

She sniffed. And spoke first. "... When the civil war happened, we hid here once. You would wrap your arms around me, and we'd curl up together under the bed, praying that it'd protect us." – she whispered.

"– But even when I cried, even when we thought we would die, I still felt safe with you. Do you remember that, dear…?"

The sorrowful voice spoke of memories that a monster should not have. Edward felt cold. So cold, alone under that bed.

He closed his eyes tightly shut. Maybe, after a while, he wouldn't see her when he opened them. Hugging himself, Edward shuddered as a shiver crawled up his spine. Maybe he could still return to a normal life, where he didn’t hallucinate. Maybe he could still pretend none of this happened.

There was a shifting sound, and he sucked in a trepid breath. A thud, right in front of him. With his lips trembling, and teeth grinding against each other, Edward wondered if his death would be quick. But time stretched as the room fell into stifling silence, the monster's breathing ruffling on his face. It was right in front of him. He knew. He knew that he should just keep his eyes closed, waiting for his death. He knew that. His heart hurt inside his ribcage from pounding so hard, and his stomach sank lower with fear. He should close his eyes more firmly. He should just wait a while longer.

But instead, he opened them.

Her face. Her same crying face, if not for the magnified size and its greyish blue eyes with slitted pupils. A shadow of what once was her. His wife. The one he waited for so long. The one he imagined walking back to him as he sat by that porch every day. It did come back, as a monster, a ghost ready to haunt him, blame him for the pathetic man that he was, for not being able to prevent her from going missing. A reflection of what he lost. Evidence of his cowardice. A sign that he has gone mad.

That's what he wanted to believe.

But the face that resembled his wife so faithfully mirrored his expression of dread and grief. It covered itself in such humanity, with the exhausted eyes dripping with tears. With the mouth, when its pale lips parted as it sucked in a shaky breath, even if it revealed sharp teeth underneath. With its thick, auburn hair as it clung to her sweating face. It looked so distinctly human. So distinctly real. Not at all like a ghost. Not at all like a monster out to hunt him.

In that closeup by the gap under the bed, it just looked like his wife.

Edward’s breathing got less exasperated. His heart rocked less inside his chest. His tears dried as his widened eyes remained frozen on the figure before him. He glared at its mouth, as it opened to speak.

"Edward..." It whispered. So silently, so tender yet certain, just like the time when he had her by his side.

"... I am real."

The tears resurfaced, a mix of fear, hope and despair turned into quiet, then loud sobs, then muffled screams as Edward cried and curled up further under the bed, letting out years of frustration. Years of guilt as it made his chest hurt and his breathing to narrow. He couldn't hear her, who was sobbing on her own, as he drowned in the sorrows that leaked out of his weathered body like a dam that has been broken. Did he have her back? Could he really put a stop to this? He felt guilty. So guilty. Was that his fault? If he found her, would she have turned out like this? No, she wouldn’t. He knew she wouldn’t and that was why the tears wouldn’t stop. If the monster wanted to hurt him, Edward wouldn’t blame it, not even a little.

When he started to calm down, he didn't realize the creature was still there, in front of him, with tears gathered on its enlarged face. He regained his breath, steadily and gradually, refocusing his eyes on the grey blue irises. Her gaze softened, just like when she greeted him home after a tiring day, eyes inviting him for peaceful rest.

He needed that rest. More so than any other day.

"If I... If I move away, will you come out?"

She whispered so quietly Edward struggled to hear it. But it still sounded the same, that sweet, honeyed voice that said “I love you” with so much earnest and ease. But a part of him still doubted. His body still trembled under her alien gaze. Doubts echoed in his mind, and adrenaline pumped in his veins. If this was her, then how? Why? What kind of degenerate devil would do this to her?

But still, he wanted to believe... He did, but... He didn't want to die.

"Dear... If I wanted to hurt you, don't you think I'd already done so?"

There it was, her bolder side, the one that always made her win an argument, that scolded him sometimes but he always loved it when she did. The one that now made him snap out of it, and helped Edward realize that he didn't have any power in this situation from the very beginning. The creature was huge and could see him. Indeed, if it wanted it would have hurt him long ago. Edward repeated this in his head over and over until it was enough to clear his mind.

In a glimpse of calmness, he managed to speak in what was left of his hoarse voice. "Yes... You're right, honey." And she smiled. A relieved, sad smile, one that did not have any hope in it, but that was glad he at least spoke to her like a person. Like his wife. Even if it was only for a little bit.

  She got up, the long claws visible for a second in Edward's field of vision. They recoiled towards the snake creature's chest as if it had touched a burning kettle, knowing he had seen its intimidating appendage. It shifted its body away and the scales glistened as it slithered towards the door. After a while, it stopped. The area in front of Edward was free to move now.

His heartbeat rocked louder. What if the moment he leaves it slices him open with those claws... – No. 'Snap out of it. Snap out of it.'  he repeated in his head, recalling the events and the fact that if it was a predator after its prey, he was already too difficult to be bothered with. He would be fine, Edward assumed. He had to be.

And if all of that was a lie, then it was better that he died anyway, granting the sweet release of death instead of sinking into his madness.

Because if all that he saw this night was not real, then he really has gone mad.

Edward took a deep breath. One... Two... The snake creature remained still.

Three.

He scrambled away from the bed and sat up in a hurry, heaving like he had run a marathon. Eyes closed. Waiting for the inevitable.

It never came.

So he opened his eyes, coming face to face with the creature's scales stretching in the distance. His heart throbbed.

"I-it's okay, honey... You're doing great." She whispered, voice clogged by her own desire to break down into tears.

Edward took another deep breath. In… And out. No closing his eyes now. And slowly, he raised his head up, searching for the face of his beloved. Even if he was shaking from head to toe.

His eyes trailed up her body. Nervous and slim hands, covered by black scales, interlaced over her lap. The scales of her tail became thinner and thinner as he looked up, their color contrasting against the ivory skin of her human upper body. It was ashen, slim, the torso alone was as tall as he was. He looked to the chest concealed by her hair, mahogany and wavy, just like he remembered, although the strands were much longer and thicker than before. And finally, he reached it. The same sweet, tender face, looking down at him. The trembling lips struggled to show a reassuring smile, forcing her mouth shut in order to cover the fangs underneath it. Those elongated eyes, with thick eyelashes that fluttered, blinking away tears. The same straight nose. Those previously beautiful blue eyes, now a greyer shade and with pupils like a reptile's, yet with that human, longing glance, darting around Edward's face as she analyzed his every expression.

It was her. No doubt about that now.

Edward opened his mouth and closed it, struggling to form words. Thoughts spiraled inside his mind. Feelings of guilt, frustration, anger, indignation. Fear. Sorrow. Pain.

Yet hope. Above all it was hope.

Edward got up, not taking his eyes off hers.

That was no monster. It was, indeed, his wife.

"Oh, Cordelia, what have they done to you?"

His voice whispered, thick with sorrow. He looked up to see pools of tears splashing from Cordelia's face, a clear expression of relief. She sobbed, burying her face in her clawed hands, relieved that her husband called her by her name again. Relieved that he was here. Relieved that he didn't see her as a monster, at least for that moment. A piece of humanity she lost, a piece of her previous life that she missed, a piece of hope that was snatched away from her seven years ago and that she never thought she'd have again. It was returning for her.

He was returning for her.

Cordelia was surprised by a warm touch over her scaled lap. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the rough back of her hand, looking down with a gasp. Her husband was rubbing his hand over it, tiny and shaking, comforting her. An attempt to reach out.

"D-don't. They are hideous..." Tears flowed on her face.

‘Indeed, they were’, Edward thought. He never liked snakes, their scales always making his skin crawl whenever he found one in the farm. The feeling wasn't any different as he trailed his hands over her, goosebumps raised the hairs on his skin and he shuddered with each motion. Edward exhaled shakily. No matter how much he looked at it, even if everything felt unreal at the moment, he couldn’t deny who was in front of him.

"They are still you." He said.

Cordelia widened her eyes and Edward looked up at her with compassion on his face. Love, longing. They both yearned for that. For the same feeling to return to them. For the same life, that was so cruelly snatched away from them, to return as if nothing had gotten between them in the first place. Even if it was a pointless dream.

They fumbled awkwardly at what to do.

Edward wasn't sure how to proceed. His mind conjured images of him holding her tightly, back to her human form, like a dream manifesting. Yet the reality loomed over him and the long tail that filled his bedroom in multiple coils covered his skin with goosebumps, a knot tightening on his throat.

He looked up and confirmed it, Cordelia's unsure face was there. He’s not crazy. All of that was still her.

She looked away under his apprehensive gaze, turning deep red and ashamed of herself. Edward took a deep breath; she didn’t feel well and he needed to fix this. He looked down. Then looked up again.

"Can I hold you?"

The question took Cordelia aback. She backed away from him and widened her eyes. Her tail bumped on the cabinet and he twisted his neck towards the source of the sound, clearly flinching from the movement.

He was still terrified of her. Then, why...?

"You don't need to do this, Edward. You did great already –“

"No. I want to do this. If you're really you, I want to do this."

Cordelia looked down and saw Edward's determined face. Her heart broke silently inside her. Why he was so adamant in dealing with her, Cordelia didn't know. But gosh, if it wasn't for his fear and for her disgusting claws, she'd have held him close a long time ago. She missed it so much. How much she missed his strong embrace.

So she nodded, and he came closer.

Edward couldn't quite contain how much he was shaking. Couldn't contain his jolt when he touched her frigid skin, chills crawling down his spine. But despite this, he pushed on forward, kneeling over her scaled lap, glancing at how they shone even in the partial darkness. With silent fascination, Cordelia let her arms hover around him.

A moment hung between them.

And Edward latched onto her. He rested on her torso and enveloped his arms around her, as much as he could, as they barely reached her back. Cold. She was cold like a corpse. He rested his cheek against her stomach, shivering upon contact. Gosh, it was so cold. He wanted to pull away. He wanted to hold her closer. Cordelia didn't remember the last time she sensed so much warmth. She felt herself getting hot inside even when she thought she was not capable of feeling warm anymore. Edward snuggled closer to her chest, and she sighed, relishing in his contact. Gently, like she was cradling an injured bird, Cordelia enveloped her arms around him, careful not to hold him too tight or not to loom over him, either. Gosh, the way her arms completely engulfed him... She felt monstrous. Edward shrank upon contact and she started to let him go, fearing this was a bad decision, but the feeling of his hug getting tighter made her arms remain still.

They stayed like this for an amount of time, taking in each other’s presence. Edward heard his wife's strong heartbeat against him, which grounded him in his current predicament, but still... Maybe he'd blink and she'd be gone, or maybe something would finally reveal that he'd made all of that up. Cordelia's embrace got a little tighter, not in a way that was hurting him, but she shifted around and her shadow loomed over as she curled around him. Her arms closed the hug in, and his heart skipped a beat.

"I missed you." she croaked.

She leaned over Edward, pulling him closer. He sighed in sweet relief upon hearing her melodic voice, feeling exhaustion weighing down on him as his body relaxed. He sank in her gentle embrace, kissing the surface of the freezing cold skin.

"I missed you too, dear."

...

They were laying on their backs under the early morning light, on the floor of the same bedroom where everything happened. Cordelia's tail stretched way further outside the room, disappearing through the door. Edward rested on top of her, not after much insistence that he wrapped a warm blanket around him. He ran his fingers through her hair, dazed, letting the reality of the situation sink in. He wasn't exactly afraid now, but the memories of the night made his heart twist with a mix of dread and guilt. Edward needed to know. How bad was everything that happened to her? Too much happened, she was gone, and now he had her back. It felt unreal and too real at the same time. And yet, Edward needed answers. Maybe, just for a few minutes, he thought, they could stay like this, and pretend that nothing had happened, but he knew that curiosity would get the best of him. Cordelia looked down at her husband with tenderness, watching as he caressed her hair, as she avoided touching him with her claws. She noticed his pensive expression and frowned.

“Is something wrong?

Edward hesitated, looking for ways to phrase his question. "What happened that made you turn into this?" He asked finally, tone even, yet with seething rage building up inside his chest. "Who did this to you?"

Cordelia sighed, closing her eyes. All the memories surfaced in her head like a messy conjecture of disfigured images and sounds. She took a shuddering breath, and spoke.

"I regained memories of you first before I remembered my own name..."