#but it always just feels so dizzy like the whole world is a dream

[monstersflashlight]

Imagining a night creature with a reader who's afraid of the dark

Hi! I like that. This made me think of the monster under the bed I answered a few days ago (find it here). Also, when you sent this I already had a semi-planned story with a girl in a dark street (find it here). But I also got some inspo for this. The idea of the reader being afraid of the dark and the monsters lurking there… What she doesn’t know is that the monsters there don’t want to hurt her, just tease her little human body. This is sweeter than I normally write, but I hope you like it!

Sleeping in the dark

Night monster x fem!reader || Stalking, overstimulation, forced orgasms

You were always afraid of the dark. You couldn’t remember a time in your life when you didn’t feel anxiety creeping in the back of your neck every time a street was too dark, your curtains a bit too closed… Some people laughed about it, saying you weren’t a kid anymore, a grown woman shouldn’t be scared of the dark. But you couldn’t fight your fears, it was beyond your control.

That’s why you got a little lamp, always turned on so you could sleep better. Just knowing you weren’t in complete darkness, even in your sleep, made you feel a bit better. But you weren’t a lucky person, so when you woke in the middle of the night and the lamp was turned off, your anxiety picked with full force. Tears ran down your face instantly, your breath coming in fast exhales, almost hyperventilating.

“Hey, hey. Calm down.” A voice came from inside your closet, making you scream as a dark figure opened the door and stepped out. “Shhh, stop! I’m not here to hurt you.” He tried, but you opened your mouth to scream again. He crossed the room in two fast steps and covered your mouth with a hand as big as your whole face. “I’m trying to help, but you need to stop screaming. Are you going to scream if I let go?” You shook your head, tears rolling down your face.

“Aw, little human, don’t cry.” He pleaded, his voice soft as you felt his weight sitting down on the bed. You moved away, scared.

“The- the dark. It’s so dark.” You hiccuped between sobs. “Can you turn on the lights?” You asked, already knowing his answer.

“The dark is okay. I like the dark. You aren’t ready to see me, yet.” He told you. You didn’t know if you wanted to see him either. You were scared enough, but his presence was weirdly calming.

“Who are you?” You asked then, equal parts scared and curious. He didn’t answer, silence making you wanna tear up again. “Am I dreaming?” You asked, more to yourself than to him.

“No, you are not.” He answered, his voice closer than you expected, like he was right next to you.

You jumped back, almost falling down. “Are you a monster?”

He sighed, like the weight of the world was over him. “Some call me that, yeah.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” You didn’t know why you asked, he could hurt you if he wanted, and you couldn’t do shit about it. But you felt calm, like his presence was okay. Some primal part inside of you trusted him, and as naive as it was, you did. You trusted the shadows in front of you, the dark figure that you couldn't even see.

“No, little human. I would never hurt you. But I can help you.” His voice was so soft that you relaxed completely, your body giving away all the tension, leaving you feeling dizzy.

That picked your interest. “Help me how?”

“I can distract you from the fear.” The innuendo on his voice was more than clear.

But you asked anyway: “Ho- how?” Your voice broke down as you tried to be brave, tried to make sense of the mixed feelings inside of you.

“Can I touch you, little human?” You nodded. You couldn’t see his face, but you guessed he could see yours if he told you not to cry. A hand touched your knee, traveling up and up. The flimsy dress you were wearing was put aside as his hand touched the hem of your panties. “Is this okay?” You nodded, speechless.

You couldn’t comprehend why you were so pliant to his touch, but you just knew. You knew he was telling the truth, he didn’t want to hurt you. He pulled your panties aside, exposing your pussy to the air. A shiver ran down your spine as his pointy fingers touched your clit.

“I saw you touch this tiny pearl so many times… You looked so happy when you did.” He told you, rubbing your clit in the exact same way you did. “I’ve been watching you for so long. I studied your every move.” He pushed a finger inside of you, curving it to hit the perfect place. “It pained me to see you touch yourself and not being able to help. To be the one giving you pleasure. But now… Now I can, little human.” The idea of him watching you jerk off making your pussy tingle, convulsing against the finger inside of you. “You like that? You like knowing I was watching? You are a little pervert.” He laughed softly. You blushed.

His fingers were so much longer than yours, almost as long as your biggest dildo, but not so thick. He finger fucked you for a bit, humming and cooing at your reactions. Like you were a cute puppy doing a new trick, amazed when you cried out and repeating the move over and over as you came.

When you calmed down, he asked: “Can I fuck you, little human?” His fingers were still inside of you, rubbing softly, not trying to fuck you, just resting inside.

“Yes.” You choked out as he took his fingers out and felt his weight setting over you. He positioned himself and started pushing in slowly. “You… It feels weird.” You whispered, he chuckled. “My dick is not like the human ones. I have… ridges.” He pushed further, the aforementioned ridges rubbing against your walls and making you moan. “Do they please you?” You tried to answer, but the only sound that escaped your lips was a broken moan. He took that as a yes and started fucking you, slow but deep.

It wasn’t enough. “Faster. Harder.” You pleaded. He complied, setting a fast pace that made your boobs bounce up and down, almost hitting your chin. His hands on your hips were going to bruise, but you didn’t care. He had the perfect dick, even better than the tentacle dildo you always used.

Before you knew it, you were falling apart around him, his dick twitching as he came, too. But he didn’t stop, his dick still hard inside of you. He waited for a few seconds and started fucking you again. You didn’t know how he could keep fucking, how his dick was still hard, but you wanted to thank whoever created him for giving him that stamina. He fucked you over and over, for what felt like hours.

After what felt like a hundred orgasms, maybe they were, your oversensitive clit felt raw. Your pussy felt used and abused, but the pleasure was still there, almost painful. He kept asking you to come again, to let him feel your pussy contracting around him. To let him fill you again. And again. And again.

“I can’t anymore. Please…” You begged. You came so many times you lost count.

“Just one more, little human. One more and I’ll stop.” He told you, his pace not flattering for even a second.

You felt tears running down your face. “I can’t.” You choked out, your body spent. But he kept going. He rubbed your clit furiously, using his come as lube. Your last orgasm was pushed out of you, he forced you to come around his dick, almost to the point of pain. You cried as you came, so sensitive and tired… He wiped the tears away as he buried himself deep and came again, adding to your overflowing pussy.

He pulled out slowly and disappeared. Appearing seconds later with a warm cloth to clean some of the mess between your thighs.

“Would you stay?” You whispered, grabbing around his wrist still cleaning you up.

“Sure thing, little human.” He whispered back, his body curling around yours two seconds later.

For the first time in your life, you slept in the dark, a monster guarding you.

Part 2 can be found here.

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : TABS OF THE MIND : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Wade Wilson x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You use your mind-reading ability to explore Wade Wilson's thoughts and discover his chaotic but affectionate mental landscape. Among the many open tabs, you find a surprising section dedicated to his romantic feelings for you, complete with heartfelt and humorous entries. When you confront Wade about it, he’s both embarrassed and delighted, leading to a sweet and playful exchange that deepens your connection.

YOU HAD ALWAYS BEEN WARY OF POKING AROUND IN PEOPLE’S MINDS. The sheer amount of personal information, the jumble of thoughts and feelings—it could be overwhelming. But you’d made an exception for Wade Wilson, also known as Deadpool, partly out of curiosity and partly because you were just really, really bored one evening.

Wade had been unusually quiet—an anomaly you couldn't ignore. As you sat across from him in the living room, surrounded by a chaotic mess of his various weaponry and superhero paraphernalia, you decided to use your mind-reading abilities to see what was going on inside his head.

The mental dive into Wade’s brain was like stepping into a virtual reality game with no tutorial. It was an endless array of screens, tabs, and pop-ups, all crammed together in a dizzying whirlwind of chaotic thoughts. The metaphorical computer in his mind was running on overdrive, with so many tabs open it looked like a hacker's dream.

There was a tab labeled “Weapons Upgrades,” with a detailed list of modifications and their potential effectiveness. Another tab titled “Tacos” featured a passionate debate between various taco toppings. Scrolling through, you saw tabs on everything from “Recent Movie Reviews” to “Improvised Combat Techniques,” each one brimming with Wade’s characteristic fervor.

But then you stumbled upon a particularly interesting tab labeled “You.” It was nestled between “How to Annoy Cable” and “Top Ten Deadpool Fails.” Your curiosity piqued, you hesitated for a moment before clicking on it.

The tab opened up to a series of thoughts and fantasies about you. Wade’s mind was a blend of absurdity and sincerity. There were sketches of you in various heroic poses, doodles of you and Wade together in ridiculously romantic settings (including a taco-themed date), and a heartfelt but goofy list of reasons why he thought you were “totally awesome.”

One entry read: “Top 5 Reasons Why You’re the Coolest Ever: 1) You’re mind-reading is hot. 2) You laugh at my jokes (or at least pretend to). 3) You’re strong, smart, and have that killer smile. 4) You didn’t run screaming when you first saw me in my suit. 5) You’re my kind of crazy.”

Your heart melted a little as you scanned through these thoughts, seeing the genuine affection Wade had for you beneath his usual banter. It was sweet, and more than a little funny, especially given the ridiculous nature of some of his fantasies.

Wade looked up from his video game, catching your gaze with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Whatcha doing over there? Plotting world domination? Or maybe just how to fix my latest taco catastrophe?”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you closed the mental tabs. “Actually, I was just browsing your thoughts. Noticed you’ve got quite a lot of open tabs.”

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with playful innocence. “Yeah, my brain’s a bit of a mess. But it’s a fun mess. Anything you’d like to share?”

You leaned closer, teasing him. “Oh, just the fact that you have a whole section dedicated to me.”

Wade’s eyes widened comically, his grin widening. “Oh really? I didn’t know I was so… tab-worthy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a warmth spread through you at his playful embarrassment. “Yeah, it’s quite the collection. You’ve got everything from doodles of us eating tacos together to a detailed list of why you think I’m amazing.”

Wade’s face flushed slightly, and he scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Well, you know, it’s hard to keep a lid on how awesome you are. My brain just… explodes with thoughts about you. Most of them are totally sane and not at all over-the-top.”

You reached out and took his hand, the gesture softening his expression. “It’s sweet, Wade. Really.”

He looked at you with a mixture of relief and delight. “So, you’re not freaked out by my overactive imagination?”

You shook your head, smiling warmly. “Not at all. In fact, I think it’s kind of endearing.”

Wade’s grin returned with renewed vigor. “Well, in that case, I guess I should make sure the next tab is about our future taco dates.”

You laughed, squeezing his hand gently. “That sounds perfect.”

With that, Wade pulled you into a spontaneous hug, spinning you around with exuberant joy. “I knew you’d love it! I’ve got tons more tabs where that came from. Next one’s about how I’m going to impress you with my epic ninja moves. Spoiler alert: It might involve a lot of flailing.”

You rested your head against his shoulder, enjoying the comfort of his embrace. “I look forward to it. But maybe let’s focus on the taco date first?”

He chuckled, his arms tightening around you. “Deal. Tacos first, epic ninja moves second. You got it.”

And as the two of you settled into your quirky, loving routine, you knew that Wade’s chaotic, endearing mind was a place you were more than happy to be a part of. The tabs of his heart were filled with an unconventional but undeniable affection, and you were thrilled to be the center of it all.

🏷️: @stargazingcarol

Thank you (and your friend ofc) for this adorable request! I really hope you enjoyed it :))

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know!

[kkayyerr]

Collar me.

Summary: You had always struggled with trying to find out where you actually belong, because Pogues never felt like an actual family to you. Until one day Rafe Cameron decided to show you just how exactly it feels to be someone’s belonging.

Pairing: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Pogue!puppy!reader.

Warnings: NSFW, Kidnapping, dub-con, weapons, swearing, degradation, humiliation, pet-play, orgasm denial, fingering, Dom!Rafe, Sub!Reader, slight dacryphillia, ownership.

Words count: 2,2 k

You knew that the Pogue’s lifestyle wasn’t for you since the first day you had joined them. Of course there was something exciting about all those trips and adventures, but somehow you felt lonely even in the large group of people. They had given you love and support and tried to make you get used to their lifestyle, but it still wasn’t enough for you. 

You still had a feeling that you didn’t belong with them.

That you don’t belong anywhere at all. 

You wanted something else; you wanted a quiet life under someone’s protection. Sometimes you just wanted to give control into someone else’s hands. 

Sometimes you just wanted to be controlled.

Of course you could never admit that, though. For Pogues, it sounded like hell, like something they would never expect to hear from you or each other. So you kept your mask on, trying to forget about those peaceful life dreams. How could your life even become peaceful when even a night at the open-air cinema had turned into pure chaos?

You were standing by, looking at how Kooks suddenly started to outnumber your friends. It started with only Rafe and Topper, but the others showed up also. You knew that you shouldn’t have dived into their conflict, but you just couldn’t stay there and watch your friends getting severely beat up by a group of assholes.

You approached them and stood right between your friends and Kooks. All of them were breathing hard, preparing for another round. You quickly jumped right onto Rafe, kicking him in the chest, not harming but definitely getting his attention and winning some time for the Pogues.

 

„So you’re not going to hit me? What a gentleman.”

 

You knew that your behavior was going to ruffle his feathers, and you were doing that on purpose. The idea of pushing his buttons was somehow exiting to you, even though you couldn’t explain why. In the pale moonlight, you saw his face. You noticed that his expression wasn’t angry nor annoyed, no. 

He was smiling. 

That smirk sent chills down your spine; something about him was off. 

 

„I have a lot of better ideas.”

 

Right after he said that, you heard a couple of gunshots right behind you. You quickly turned around, trying to find out who had the gun in their hands, but the last thing that you saw was Pogues running away for their lives, clearly leaving you behind. At that point, you didn’t even care who had the gun; you just wanted to burst in tears there and then. 

Just a second later, you felt hit on the head from behind. Not hard enough to traumatize you, but clearly hard enough to knock you out.

The whole world turned black as your body felt down to the ground. 

…

„Where am I?”

 

It was the first thought that popped up in your head as you woke up in the strange place that obviously wasn’t your bed. You were completely naked, your whole body was sore, and you felt a little dizziness when you tried to stand up, so you just laid back. You also felt something on your face, but you couldn’t tell what exactly that was until you touched it with your hands. You quickly stood up, as the loud gasp of shook almost escaped from your mouth when you realized what exactly that was.

It was a muzzle.

Muzzle was covering half of your face, so you could've spoken but still would feel yourself uncomfortable enough. The one who did this to you didn’t want to gag you; they wanted to torment you using some twisted methods. You start exploring your body, looking for at least something, like bruises, cuts, or the least hand marks. But there was nothing. Your body was clear, and for some reasons it made you even more anxious. Because if nobody had touched or hurt you before, they most definitely were waiting for you to wake up. They might want you to actually feel the pain.

You started to spin your head around, trying to find something that would give you answers to all the questions in your mind. The room was empty; there was nothing. Only one window. You felt almost sick in your stomach as the view started to look very familiar.

You were in Tannyhill.

Your knees got weak, and you fell to the floor, covering your mouth with your hand. Slowly, memories started to kick in. Fight, gunshots, pogues leaving you behind—you're getting knocked out.

The puzzle was finally pieced together.

 

„You look way better without those Pogue clothes, you know?”

 

You almost jumped as you heard those voices behind you. Of course, you knew who was standing there. You slowly turned around; your face expressed pure hatred and anger towards the person who did this to you. Rafe Cameron was standing a few steps away from you; his face relaxed at first, but then his lips tugged into a small smile as he saw your face in the muzzle. He definitely was proud of what he had done.

 

„I decided to keep you around instead of killing you. I figured I could use you. At least for my entertainment.”

 

He stated, completely ignoring your warning gaze, filled with rage. You twisted your knuckles, trying to manage your emotions, but you failed, as you saw that little grin on his face that almost made your blood boil. The next moment you quickly approached him, wanted to attack him, and protected yourself at least somehow. Prove him that he was wrong.

Suddenly, you froze.

 

„Try something stupid again, and I will show you just exactly what happens to wild animals.”

 

He pressed the gun upon your head, just a moment before you could’ve actually done something to him. The hatred in your eyes now had turned into the fear. You didn’t expect that he would still have a gun with him, but you were so obviously wrong. He had the gun, and he definitely had you in his hands. He had you under control. 

 

„Don’t make me put a shock collar on you, puppy.”

 

Your lips twitched in disgust when the word „puppy” came out of his mouth. Sadly, there was nothing you could’ve done about the way he was treating you right now, and you fully acknowledged that. You slowly looked up, your gaze met his, and your skin was covered in shivers once again when you realized that there was no guilt in his eyes.

He most definitely was a psychopath.

And you most definitely were turned on. 

 

„I am not an animal, Rafe. You can’t do this!”

 

Your words only made him smirk. Of course he understood that you were a human being, even if you were a Pogue, but who said that human beings can’t become good pets? Rafe never liked animals, but he had certainly liked control and would definitely like taming a pogue. After all, you didn’t seem like a typical Pogue to him; something in you was different. 

 

„Well, your friends dumped you, so now it seems like you’re going to be my lapdog.”

 

He finally took the gun away from your head, but he was still holding it, just in case you’ll think about doing something stupid once again. He was really regretting not tying you up in the first place.

 

„And if you’re lucky, I’ll throw you a bone and give you a little pet on the head.”

 

You hated yourself so much for the fact that you were getting wet from his dirty words. Part of you, the one that had some self-respect, wanted to slap him across the face and watch how his smug expression would slowly disappear. But the other part didn’t want him to stop at all. 

 

„I will never be your little puppy, Rafe.”

 

You said, trying to keep your voice stern, even though your body had already weakened just from all the nasty thoughts that had filled up your little head. Fuck, isn’t that exactly what you wanted? He sighed, not impressed by your little attitude. After all, you were a pogue. A stubborn little girl without manners.

 

„It’s sad, you know? I thought that we were about to have our first playtime.”

 

You raised your eyebrows, obviously intrigued by his words. Mostly, you wanted to find out what he had meant by the word „playtime," even though you already had a lot of ideas in your head. While you were thinking, Rafe slowly put the gun on the nightstand and carefully inserted his hand into the pocket of his black trousers, searching for something. You were also invested in what he was doing. It was very interesting for you to find out what he was looking for. And when he finally found it, your eyes widened. He was holding a pink, beautiful collar in his hand that said „R.C.”.

 

„I won’t be wearing that.”

 

Rafe approached you, still holding the collar in front of your face, teasing you. He saw that glimpse in your eyes. You wanted to wear that little thing; you wanted to wear that so badly, but you were way too embarrassed to even think about admitting that and way too shy to say it out loud.

 

„Oh no, you’ll have to beg me to let you wear that. Being Cameron’s property is a big responsibility.”

 

You shook your head in disbelief. He was an idiot if he thought that you would actually ask, nor beg for something as humiliating as that. Of course, you wouldn’t, at least not right now. Even if you wanted too. Deep down, you also wanted to see how far he could’ve pushed you before your mask would finally slip off. 

 

„I think my friends will come for me anytime soon, so if I were you, I would quit those games.”

 

His eyes darkened for a quick moment, which surprised you because you didn’t know that he would take that childish threat seriously.

Your own face expression changed from slightly smug to confused when you felt his hands around your waist, tugging you closer to him. The next second he turned you around and roughly pushed you towards the wall, practicality pinning you against it. 

His hand quickly spread your legs without any pressure. To your own surprise, you didn’t even try to stop him; you didn’t even want him either. He leaned closer to your ear; his fingers now were teasing your outer lips, while your cunt was practically begging for his attention. 

 

„I bet you’ll come faster than your friends would, puppy.”

 

You were almost dripping wet. When his fingers finally dive in and almost immediately hit a spot, you let out a whimper, which then became a whole symphony of your moans as you arched your back from the torturous pleasure. It felt too good to be something bad or shameful. Rafe started to circle your clit, still not giving it enough attention for you to cum, but just enough for you to be on the edge, scratching the wall with your nails.

 

„Please”

 

Rafe chuckled at your plea, giving your clitter a little pitch and watching you squirm and muffle something; that would’ve most definitely come out as the loud scream. He just kept on teasing you, knowing that you would’ve cum in two seconds if he only touched your clitoral area properly. 

 

„I’m going to...”

 

Rafe suddenly stopped, not pulling out his fingers but also not making any moves. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, making you tilt back your head. He wasn’t done with you yet, and he wanted to teach you some manners. Rafe wanted to make sure that his pet would be on her best behavior.

 

„I’ll let you cum if you say something for me, deal?”

 

You automatically nodded, feeling how his fingers begin to play with your clitter again, this time softer, which somehow was even worse than his previous rough actions.

 

„You have to ask me to collar you, puppy.”

 

Your eyes widened at his words, even though you weren’t that surprised. You knew that he would pull something like that, because he always fucking did. Your knees got weaker, and your whole body started to shake as you felt that you were actually so close to finally cupping.

 

„C’mon”

 

Rafe taunt, his fingers getting rougher, teasing your clit and your inner walls, dangerously close to making it impossible for you to hold it in. Tears of overstimulation flashed down your cheeks as you finally felt ready to say those words out loud. 

 

„Collar me, Rafe.”

 

Just a small touch on your clit was more than enough for you to finally reach your breaking point. Moans of pleasure mixed with sobbings of embarrassment came out of your mouth right after you got your relief. 

Before you could’ve even thought about saying anything, you felt how something had been wrapped tightly around your neck. You knew exactly what that was, and for some reason that knowledge calmed you down. 

Now you were wearing something symbolizing your loyalty and, most importantly, your belongings. 

The pink collar with gold initials on it wasn’t looking that bad on you. 

„R.C”

Maybe the life of a property will suit you better?

[navybrat817]

We Don't Talk Anymore

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You and Bucky have an honest conversation, but it may not have a happy ending.

Word Count: Over 2.9k

Warnings: Angst, confessions, communicating, crying, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning)

Previous Part of AU: Where Did the Time Go?

A/N: More Dreamboat and Butterfly from my Reconnect AU! Sorry in advance, lovelies. ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

As long as you and Bucky had been friends, you rarely saw him nervous. It wasn’t an emotion he liked to show to many, even though he knew you’d never judge him. Watching him clench and unclench his jaw, the fingers on his left hand twitching before he ran them through his hair, you sensed just how anxious he was. Whatever he had to say had him on edge. 

Which had you right there with him.

“Just tell me what's going on,” you urged, putting a hand on his arm in the hopes that your touch would calm him. “Please.”

Bucky swallowed as he looked at you. Why was it a gaze like he was saying goodbye? “You asked how I knew TJ stayed at your place,” he began, moving his arm to take your hand in his. “I went to see you after Steve’s party because I had something I wanted to say to you. Something I wanted to say for a long time.”

You took a step closer, your heart racing a bit faster. The combination of excitement and nerves blended together as you squeezed his hand. “What did you want to tell me?”

The next words out of his mouth would either break your heart or heal the unnecessary pain you put on yourself by staying silent for so long.

“That you weren’t just my best friend. You were so much more to me than that,” he said, bringing his palm to your cheek. You instantly leaned into his touch. “I wanted to tell you that I was crazy about you and wanted you to be my girl.”

Butterflies filled your stomach and it took you a second to find your voice. Was this a dream? “You wanted me to be your girl?” You asked softly, like if you said it any louder you’d wake up. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, a sad smile on his face. “I never wanted anything more than that.”

It was like the ground shifted beneath your feet as you let the words sink in. The butterflies in your stomach went straight to your dizzy head. Bucky Barnes wanted you to be his girl. You longed to hear that he felt the same way you did. It didn’t feel real though. 

You were waiting for the shoe to drop.

Because you were always just out of reach of Bucky. It was like you were a step behind, but you still wanted to follow. You wanted your paths to eventually merge the way you thought they were supposed to. 

“Bucky, I…” you trailed off, trying to get your bearings. You wanted to admit that you felt the same way, but you needed the rest of his story first. “If you felt this way, why didn’t you say anything? Why were you with Dot?”

Why didn’t you just tell me?

A darkness clouded his eyes. “I didn’t feel like I was good enough for you. I never thought I deserved you. Because you’re the best person I know and I’m just me,” he said.

“Bucky, don't say that. You're more than good enough. You deserve the whole world,” you argued. Had you done something to make him think he didn’t deserve you? “I’ve always thought that.”

“When you tell yourself of something for so long you start to believe it. And that’s what I did: I convinced myself that I would never be the man you wanted or deserved to be with,” he said. It broke your heart that he didn’t see himself as worthy enough for you. “And the day I tried to tell you, I shouldn’t have listened to that voice in my head.”

“What happened?”

“TJ answered your door. Shirtless, messy hair. I immediately jumped to conclusions about why he was there,” he answered, his nostrils flaring. Was he replaying the image in his mind? “And when I asked if I could talk to you, he said you were sleeping because he kept you up all night. I left and didn't look back because I thought my assumption was right and something in me broke.”

Your mouth fell open as you realized what Bucky thought happened. “You thought TJ and I had sex,” you stated, wanting to shake him when he nodded. “We didn’t have sex. He kept me up all night talking.”

“I know that now. I should’ve known then. But I thought that was my sign that I was right all along and that I’d never have you,” he explained as tears sprang to your eyes. “You asked me why I dated Dot. It was because I settled. I thought that was what I deserved.”

“So, you thought TJ and I hooked up or were together or something and that was it? You just decided not to say anything to me. And you went to Dot because you knew that was a sure thing?” you asked louder than you intended to, an ugly feeling swirling in your gut. Was it bitterness? “You gave up on us.”

Was it actually giving up when you weren't together? In a way, yes. He bowed out without a word.

“Gave up on us?” he repeated, searching your face for something you couldn't place. “Wait, what are you saying? That you care about me, too?”

“Yes! Yes, I do. So much,” you admitted, hastily swiping at your cheeks as tears fell. “You’re the only guy I’ve ever wanted.”

“You wanted to be with me?” he asked above a whisper, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb.

You couldn't stop crying as you nodded, an ache in your heart spreading with each tear. “Yes. It has always been you. I was going to tell you how I felt, even at the risk of our friendship, but the day I planned to was the day you introduced Dot as your girlfriend. I knew it was too late.”

If someone asked you to visualize what both heartbreak and hope looked like, it would’ve been the expression on Bucky’s face. “This whole time…”

“This whole time,” you confirmed, swallowing the lump in your throat. “And I never stopped caring about you. I thought maybe I’d try and move on, but I couldn’t.”

“Oh, my God,” he whispered as his hand dropped, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs. “I'm sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t go to you before Dot. I should have.”

“Honestly, yeah, you should have. You didn't give me a chance to explain. You didn't even attempt to fight for me,” you accused, your eyes stinging as your vision blurred again. The floodgate was open and you were powerless to stop it. “Bucky, you gave up so easily at the first sign of something you thought was a problem. I wasn’t worth it to you, was I?”

Your chest tightened as you let the hurt sink in. You wanted to be angry, but you were only left tangled up in disappointment. That was on you for expecting too much, wasn't it?

“You are worth everything to me,” he said, stepping closer as you took a step back.

It sounded like a promise, but felt like a lie. 

“If you really thought I was dating TJ, did you ever wonder why you never saw him around much after you went to my place? Or if I slept with him, did you question why I didn’t talk about him or bring him up?” you asked, feeling as defeated as he appeared to be. “Or was I already so far gone from your mind and heart that you just didn't stop to question it or care?”

“There's nothing I can say to fix it because I know I messed up. Saying 'I'm sorry' isn't enough because I shouldn't have given up before we started,” he said, daring to lift a hand to wipe more tears away. You allowed him to do so. “I never should've put you through that. You are the last person in the world I'd ever want to hurt and I hate myself for doing just that.”

“I don't want you to hate yourself,” you whispered, your chest steadily rising and falling. “But I am hurt.”

Like the cracks that formed in your foundation, his face crumbled at your admission. “Butterfly, all I want to do is show you that you mean the world to me and make up for not being there for you. It’s the whole reason I’m here.”

“So you want to fight for me now, but you didn’t fight for me then!”

“Because I’m a fucking coward!” he shouted, both of your eyes wide as he raised his voice. His shoulders slumped, like the rush of emotion went as quickly as it came. “I didn't think I could be with you and I still wanted you in my life even if we weren’t together. I couldn’t even do that right.”

You knew Dot had a huge hand in why you didn’t see Bucky as much, but it wasn’t all her fault. 

“But why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” he asked gently before you could say anything else. “I wouldn’t have been with her if I had known. I shouldn’t have been with her in the first place.”

Hearing that didn’t stop the ache in your heart. If anything, the pain expanded. Bucky said he settled for Dot because he thought that was the kind of girl and relationship he deserved. You settled by staying silent. Part of you even felt bad for his ex, even if she knew he wasn’t fully invested. Maybe that was why she didn’t want you around. She really did know that he wanted you.

“Because I thought you were happy and that's all I ever wanted for you. Even if it wasn't with me,” you told him, something simmering in your gaze as your eyes narrowed. “Do you think I'm some kind of homewrecker? That I'd be selfish enough to tell you how I felt, with no indication that you even felt the same way, to ruin a relationship you told us you were happy in?!”

Loving someone sometimes meant having to sacrifice.

“No, I don’t think that of you at all. You’re the least selfish person I know.”

“Then what kind of person would I be to destroy your path to bring you back to mine?” you asked, not waiting for him to respond as you held up a hand. “And you know what? I agree that we wasted time. Two years wasted because we couldn't just talk to each other. Two years of seeing you in bits and pieces,” you continued, each word like a punch to the gut. “Two years of trying to figure out what the hell I did to push you away.”

He quickly shook his head. “You didn’t do anything. I-”

“You know, I've imagined so many different ways that we’d tell each other we cared for one another beyond friendship. I didn't think it would end with me crying,” you said, straightening up and trying to put on a brave face as you wiped your cheeks one last time. “So what now? Where do we go from here? We can't go back and fix it and I don't even know if I can trust you to not give up on me again. Because I never would have thought in a million years you wouldn't give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“You're right. We can't go back and I made a mistake by giving up before. I have no intention of doing that again,” he said. You wanted so badly to believe him. “And I have no right to ask anything of you, but please. Give me a chance to show that you can trust me.”

It broke your heart that he chose Dot over you so easily. You also understood what self-doubt could do to a person. How many times had you told yourself that Bucky would never see you beyond anything besides a friend? Could you completely fault him for settling? 

You also wanted to trust him since you loved him.

“Give me a chance,” he begged as he leaned in, his lips a fraction away from yours. It was like you were sharing one breath. “Please.” 

All you wanted was to kiss him. To tell him you’d be his. You almost closed the gap between you.

But you couldn’t do that tonight.

“I think I need to be alone for the rest of the night. I can't think clearly with you right in front of me,” you said, you resolve almost breaking when panic filled his eyes. “I'm sorry.”

The impulsive part of you practically screamed to jump in his arms and promise him forever, but you owed it to yourself to take a little time to reflect. 

He swallowed a little. “Please, I-”

“I'm not saying 'no' to you. I'm not going to ask you to prove anything to me. I told you, I’m used to not being a first choice,” you smiled sadly, continuing before he could react to that comment. “And this isn't a test to see if you'll chase after me when I walk away. This is me asking you to give me space for the evening. If you really care about me as much as you say you do, you'll respect that.”

Bucky opened his mouth and shut it before he opened it again. His breathing became shallow as hurt and understanding showed on his face. “Whatever you need, Butterfly.”

“Thank you, Dreamboat,” you whispered, pulling free of his grasp. With a deep breath, you took your first few steps away from him. They were both the lightest and heaviest steps you ever took, your head held high despite your sinking heart. It both pained and healed you. “And thank you for talking to me,” you added when you stopped at the porch.

“I wish I would've talked to you sooner,” he said.

Your heart sank more at his wistful tone, the urge to comfort him taking over. 

As you looked at him over your shoulder, you took in the sight of him in the moonlight. He seemed like a shell of himself as he stared at the ground with drooped shoulders. You didn't think you’d ever seen him look so lost. How did someone so strong to you appear so powerless?

And could you walk away with him in that state?

“We talked now. That means something,” you said, offering him a small smile when he lifted his head. The corner of his lip tugged in a tiny smile as well, but it fell quickly. It was a heartbreaking sight. “And Bucky?”

“Yeah?” He asked hopefully.

“My feelings for you haven’t changed,” you assured him as he let out a breath. The weight in your chest lightened at your admission, likely needing to say it as much as he needed to hear it. “If anything, they’re stronger because we finally talked. I just want you to know that.”

Even if you went your separate ways at the end of the week, Bucky would always be in your heart. You didn't have to be with him to know what you felt for him was real. You also didn’t want to try and carve him out because you considered yourself lucky to experience what love felt like, the good and the bad. Some would never know that feeling.

Bucky let out another breath and stood straighter, determination filling his eyes as he brushed his hair out of them. It was a far cry from his stance moments ago. Did he ignite a fire within himself? 

Or did you light the match? 

“My feelings haven’t changed either. And they won’t,” he promised. “I'll beg for you to be with me if that's what it takes, but I'm not giving up this time.”

Your heart raced faster, but you wouldn't let it deter you. “Maybe tomorrow we can figure out where we go from here,” you suggested. As much as you wanted to see Bucky grovel, you wouldn't make him do that. “Good night, Bucky.”

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered.

Like you asked, he made no move to follow.

You avoided the rest of the gang as you went straight to your room and allowed yourself to cry in peace on your bed. Your heart was still pounding in your chest as you reached for your pillow. When did your hand start shaking? When did your head begin to spin?

You could still feel Bucky’s touch on your cheek, his voice in your mind begging to give him a chance. 

“What the hell am I going to do?” You asked out loud.

Leaving Bucky outside was one of the hardest things you had ever done and you wondered if you made the right choice to do so after his confession, but you were proud of yourself. You knew how he felt now and you opened up about your feelings as well. 

As much as you loved him though, you had to sleep on it. Even if he didn’t care about Dot as much as he did for you, he was still with her for so long. You didn’t know how he intended to prove his feelings for you, but the determination you saw in his eyes told you there was hope for tomorrow. You would figure out the next step in your relationship.

Maybe you would even allow yourselves the happiness you deserve. 

Together.

I know! 😭 I'm sorry, lovelies. Things will look up. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[strawberryblue-blog]

She's mine too —Mason Mount.

summary: annoying days of pregnancy with mason

warning: none. pregnancy, vomiting, discomfort.

words count: +1.5k

#SEXYNOTE: Merry belated Christmas and early happy new year y'all 💌 thanks for the support, i hope you are well. love youuuu 🩵

You hugged the toilet after spitting up all the dinner of the night between sobs, you sighed taking a big breath of air, feeling your stomach churning again. It was the fifth time you had gotten up to vomit in the night and you were really exhausted. For at least a week you had been feeling this way but in the last two days, it had gotten worse and you couldn't even feed yourself properly as you ended up vomiting.

Did your son or daughter hate you? It was practically thanks to you that he or she was coming into this world, and this is how he or she thanked you? By making you spit out everything you ate? By making you feel so fragile and silly at the same time? You wanted to stay cheerful, positive and full of energy but your baby was slowly consuming you. This was nothing like what you used to hear about pregnancies.

You had never been through anything before and it really scared you. The doctor had said it was normal as long as you had constant checkups and you just had to put up with it, even though it was very hard for you and especially for Mason. Sometimes he felt that what he was doing for you wasn't enough and he hated to see you suffer but it wasn't his fault and it would pass. You sighed whimpering a little, anyone would say you were exaggerating a little (and maybe you were) but you were really suffering. Since four months ago your body had changed, your fears had become constant, dizziness, mood swings, tiredness, breast pain, you had even become irritable. Sometimes you felt guilty but it was inevitable, the baby was running your life (Not really).

But you had no regrets.

Being a mother had been one of your dreams growing up, you used to say you wanted to be like your mother and you really hoped you would be for this child. You were discovering this whole new world and you have to admit you thought it would be something else, at least you had a great man by your side. Mason used to make your endless days, the best experience of your life. He would massage your feet, fulfill your every whim, pamper you and take care of you like you were a princess.

You couldn't complain, you were perfect together and starting a family with him was another one of your biggest dreams. Because you loved everything about him, about the relationship, the respect and love you had. Because you admired how strong and respectable he was and how he behaved with you, your family and friends. Because you were in love with him and that your son had him for a father, it was the biggest pride you could feel.

A hand on your back caressed you, pulling your hair back into a makeshift bun. Mason held your hair and calmed your nerves as he appeared behind you. You hated waking him up in the middle of the night with your retching, especially since you knew he'd have to get up early in the morning but Mason was always with you.

"Don't tease me like that" you laughed exhaustedly after a while. "That's the reason i'm here, puking up everything i ingest."

Mason hid a chuckle behind his smile, trying not to laugh at your funny comment because of the situation you were going through. But it was inevitable, even in misery you were saying funny things to him.

"You suggested doing it, honey. If you had stuck it out, we wouldn't be here," he replied, earning a pout from you.

And it was true. Maybe if they hadn't had too many drinks that night and you hadn't been so horny, nothing would have changed and you wouldn't have found yourself right now. But you wanted this as much as he did, because you were talking about this and about the future, and this was the future, you becoming parents.

After a while without nausea, Mason took you in his arms, slowly carrying you toward the bed. He handed you a glass of water and when you drank some, he helped you lie down on the soft sheets, arranging the pillows on your back to make you comfortable.

"I must look terrible" you whispered a little shaken. Your cheeks were red, your forehead sweaty and you sure looked gross right now. Mason quickly denied.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world" he murmured with his eyes sparkling. "You'll bring our child, you could never look terrible" his fingers caressed your face. A smile appeared on your lips as he kissed your forehead softly.

He took his place beside you, resting his head on your belly as he wrapped his arms around you. One of his hands caressed the protruding bump, which was growing bigger and bigger every day. You didn't know the sex of the baby yet but everything was within the norm for a pregnancy, something you were grateful for, and they were supposed to have news about the baby by the next visit.

"Baby, leave mommy alone for a while, okay? She's mine too" he whispered towards her son or daughter, drawing a smile from you. Your fingers tangled in her hair, stroking her chestnut locks. Your chest overflowed with feelings seeing him there and your heart filled with happiness at the image.

Mason on top of his baby, caressing your skin with his warm fingers, his eyes shining in his wonderful gaze. The reason for your happiness in front of you, your whole world. Your eyes filled with tears and you try not to cry but you were sensitive, everything hit you double, more when it was about your son and your boyfriend.

You were both terrified, you weren't going to lie, but since the test had come back positive and after a few months of waiting, you were ready for what was to come. You had learned to love each other, you had each other, you trusted each other and you were walking on the same side. Everything had been easier, since you knew Mason, you were always supporting and loving each other.

"The boys want it to be a boy to teach him to play football but honestly i want it to be a girl" Mason whispered turning back to your chest, still her hand held on the baby, caressing it.

"Is that what you want?" you asked with a giggle. Mason nodded. "Even Summer would take care of her and teach her" you mentioned and your heart fluttered with love as you imagined your boyfriend's niece with your daughter or son.

Mason smiled hugely.

"I want a boy too, of course. But we'll have time to bring him along after the baby girl" he joked with a grimace. You laughed out loud.

You were excited for the arrival of their son or daughter, they were counting the days since they had found out and memories were piling up in their memories of this special time. The wait was going to be hard but it would definitely be worth it when you had him or her with you.

[rroseselavyyy]

spider to the fly - myg

pairing: yoongi x female reader

warnings: smut

For a young lady known to society as an entitled bitch, your fate seemed to be in the hands of your parents. By nature, you were always so obedient to the unrealistic expectations of your so-called caring parents that it made up for your bratty attitude that came from being the only heir in your family.

And this exactly explained why Min Yoongi was standing across you, with his trademark cocky grin, leaning on your bedroom's doorway.

“How did you manage to sneak in?” You asked with a playful smile on your face. Indeed, you weren’t that surprised. He could just greeted by your mom, climb the stairs like it was his place. He was your dad’s favourite, after all.

“Do I look like I’ve just broke into without your parents’ permission?” You rolled your eyes with a quiet snort. You would always open your window just for him, knowing that he would pay a visit like a creature of the night, ready to devour you.

A beautiful breeze coming through your window lingered ever so slowly over your bare legs while you gulped loudly. You patted the spot next to you on your bed and call out for him sweetly. “Just come here, I feel needy since you entered the room.”

Taking his place next to you, he shook his head in a motion showing his disbelief with a beautiful smile on his face. Once you felt his minty breath lingering on your face just centimetres away, his face clouded with sincere concern. “Dove, what happened?” He tilted your chin in order to find any traces of emotions lingered in your eyes. Without giving a proper answer, you brought your hand to his neck and played softly with his raven hair. “Why did you rush out of my parents’ house? Did they say anything to hurt you?” You couldn’t find courage in you to confront with his burning gaze. Instead you fixed your gaze on your bed and mumbled a soft “no” immediately after you felt tears started to adorn your cheeks like diamonds covered your delicate neck.

“My family never misses a chance to make me feel like I’m some sort of property, especially when I’m around you, and your family. I know, we are supposed to get married, and I appreciate that it’s you. However, just imagine I hadn’t fall in love with you since we met when we were in kindergarten? I want this to happen just because we are in love. I feel like everything slips out of my hand including my dreams of becoming a professor-” You felt out of breath when you were interrupted by a pair of soft lips. It made your head dizzy with the feeling of your mind slipping out of your head to wander around somewhere far away likely to be your dreamland.

There was no denying that everytime he looked into your eyes with his intense gaze, you felt you were burning in a hellfire. His affect on you was that immense. “Maybe my parents should adopt you. My dad likes you just fine.”

You didn’t realize when he made you lay on your back as he was towering over you with leaning on his one strong elbow to prevent crushing his weight over you. “No, Yoongi. I’m not settled for being your step sister.” You whispered with your closed eyes. Your dizzy mind refused to calculate passing minutes as you were enjoying sensations rushed through your veins. “I’m going to be your bride, don't you know that?”

"I'll take you as wife-" His breath hitched when he seemed to speak more to himself. "Just the thought of it makes me feel like I am the ruler of this whole fucking universe." You giggled as you leaned to peck his lips. With Yoongi around you, it was that easy for you to feel the happiest woman in the world even if you felt like you freaked out just seconds ago. He was notorious for being a grumpy cat for a reason, yet he was different with you. Definitely much more caring.

"Tell me Professor Min, would you let me attend your classes as a guest?" He whispered just above your ear as his fingers doing their magic below your prim and proper knee-length skirt, stroking your thighs possessively. "You know, I can be very beneficial for your academic research. Reproduction is something still so mysterious, we could find new evidences if we sacrifice ourselves to the science world."

"My mother wouldn't let me be one." Indeed, it was true. Following your dreams would never be on the silver plate that served for you. The only thing that they expected from you was to wrap this handsome man of yours around your finger. Little did they know was that he was already willing to die for you. "She prefers me to become a pretty little housewife."

"It would be a shame if I can't see you with cute glasses and tight formal skirts. I'd pass your classes with excellent grades-" He trailed his fingers on your covered pussy as he shamelessly spoke to your ear. "I'd be a good pet for my professor."

"What an encouraging husband we have here." You erotically whispered between your wet kisses along a way between his cheek to his jawline. Forgetting your parents' existence downstairs, he couldn't hold back a moan when his nostrils filled with sweet patchouli and rose essence lingering on your freshly shampooed hair.

Not that he cared, he would fight hell to hold you.

"You know I'd do anything to make you happy, my beautiful dove." You brought your thumb to his lips and softly stroke his bottom lip, he didn't lose any second to capture your thumb with his lips, slowly sucked it while his heated gaze fixed on your eyes.

"Then would you let me ride you?"

Without waiting for his response, you flipped him over and switched your positions in a heartbeat. He rested his arms under his head as he was anticipating your next move. You got rid of your panties hastily. Your soon-to-be husband boyfriend gave you a cheeky smile while you try to satiate the frustration between your legs onto his growing member covered by his expensive pants. "So this is the night I'm going to deflower you."

You wrapped your delicate hand around Yoongi's neck as you try to give him as pleasure as you could feel.

"Shut up. Just feel." As your mouth hung open from the immense pleasure you feel, Yoongi groped your waist just to make sure if he was still alive and this feeling he felt was not something he would put blame on his dirty imagination when it came to you. "You're saving it for your husband, huh? I see." When you tried to slap his chest with a growl he immediately got a grip of them and encaged between his large hands. He started to thrust up into you when you both feel you're not going to last.

Your whimpers exchanged between "yoongi" and "faster" right before you both reached your high.

"Feeling better?" He asked when he tried to catch his breathing. You giggled sweetly as you placed your figure right beside his body. "Yes."

[sehodreams]

fucking Anton with a breeding kink is so hot like when he has hot passionate romantic sex it definitely feels like baby making

Sorry, I don't think this is what you wanted to read but it's what came to my mind. It's been in my draft for so long, I tried to think of a different idea but it stayed like this 😭

TW and tags: p in v, no condom, literally babymaking.

He's especially needy on these occasions. You don't really understand what goes through his mind when he's pushing you to the bed all serious, or when he's brushing his fingers on your waist while you're getting ready for bed, but there's simply an alarm that starts sounding inside you, a "shit" repeating in your head because you know what's about to come.

He's not harder, or rougher. He's really slow since he wants to feel you more, caressing corners of your skin not even you pay attention, like that little emptiness in your collarbone, or the inside of your arm when he pushes your hands up to take control of your moves.

Still, finally, this day, he's brave enough to tell you those thoughts that fill his head and you always wondered about. Spitting things you know cross him in the middle of the night, you gasp for air when you hear his voice. "You'd look so pretty pregnant,'' he whispers. ''I can't stop thinking about us living in a bigger house, big enough for you to have anything you could ever want... don't you want to come and search for one with me?"

"What are you saying?" You answer. You want to think that maybe he's joking, but it's all so intense, his finger flicking your clit and his eyes on yours at every second, gleaming even in the dark.

"We could be a family, maybe a little girl to keep company to my favourite girl in the whole world?" He's going too far now, and you're trying to resist it. It's too drawing, the tone of his voice, the aroma of his bed that is almost yours now after all those nights sleeping together, and the image he's planting on your head. You're so comfy in that picture, being kissed by him while he rests his hand on your stomach, and everything is dizzy when he's sliding into you.

"You-you really want that?" You ask unsure, feeling too good and in a haze of pleasure. More than just loved, you feel almost adored.

"It's everything I can think about,'' he groans. ''I want to make my girl a mom, the most beautiful one."

Fuck, not again you say inside your head. He knows he shouldn't ask you for things while fucking. You're too weak to resist him when it's all so good, he pressing you to the mattress and his hips slowly finding that spot that doesn't let you think things twice when he bottoms out and steals every air you could have with his weight over you.

He's not saying anything else about it. He's just pounding and holding your hands over your head while the other in your waist keeps you in place to receive him. He couldn't let you move apart when your pussy is squelching, begging for him to spill everything inside.

You don't talk, but you want him to cum inside, you're too deep into the fantasy to say no to him, and soon you're clenching, not wanting to let him pull away from you and your new dream.

Fuck, you curse again. You're not even sure you want to be a mom. Obviously, you haven't thought about it as much as him.

Yet, you can see everything so clearly now. A house with a pretty garden, white ceilings and breakfast out in the fresh air on Sunday mornings.

You can't push him away when you know he's about to cum. His breath is getting harder with every thrust and the sweat is accumulating in his forehead. Usually, you'd have cleaned it with your hand, but he doesn't let you move, both wrists pinned in your pillow.

''I'm not wearing a condom,'' he warns you.

You don't know why he's telling you that by that point. You physically can't push him away, and you both know you can't say no to him, not while fucking, not at any moment, and this one is not the exception.

[323cutie]

8:43 pm | jung wooyoung

suggestive. 500 words.

It feels like honey.

The wine, the low lighting, the velvet of the booth cushion against your legs. Smooth, and sweet. Between the murmurs of others’ voices and the jazz playing throughout the restaurant, it almost feels like a different universe entirely. Your own world. 

But maybe that’s just the wine. And Wooyoung.

His eyes glitter when he looks at you, exposed skin golden in the honey-light. On the same side of the booth as you, seemingly-permanent smile etched onto his lips, voice low and clear. Nursing an old fashioned and listening to you intently. Turned slightly towards you, your knees brushing under the table. And there’s something…

Different from before. His gaze heavier, fonder, paced. You feel see through, completely transparent, a little warm from both him and your drink. A little nervous, too. He shifts to brush the hair out of his eyes and you lean forward, towards him, and think, maybe you’re different too.

Looking at him languidly, softly, heated. 

You lose track of your story when your eyes linger on his lips too long.

He blinks and you stutter out some excuse, losing your train of thought, the wine being too good. But you think he knows. You’ve known him for so long, the two of you can read each other without hesitation. Known him for so long, want to know him better.

“Ready to go?”

You hadn’t even considered it. But Wooyoung’s asking and rolling up the sleeves of his button up, and you wouldn’t dream of ever saying no. Not now. So you nod and drain the last of your wine, sigh at the loss of his warmth, dizzy under the honey-light and jazz. He waits for you, hand on the small of your back the whole way out. Offers to walk you home like he always does.

Your knuckles keep brushing against his the way home. It sends a slow shiver up your spine every time. You think he knows, think he’s doing it on purpose.

(He keeps asking you if you’re alright. Keeps looking at you and letting you almost-catch him, a hint of a craving in his eyes. Teasing. Honey-sweet still.)

It’s when you get to your front door that you really think – the languid, heavy glances, the velvet cushions, the glimmer in Wooyoung’s eyes. Putting pieces together until you have a new picture in your mind, one complete with his bare skin, your eyes, the flash of his teeth in a bratty grin. Smoothed out against your sheets, ruffled up next to your pillows, wave after wave after wave of that low-light, silk honey washing over you –

“Are you asking?”

Wooyoung’s closer than he’s ever been, fingers hovering over your hips. Your door is unlocked, cracked open in front of you. Waiting for an answer, waiting for you. Blink once, twice…

“Would you say yes?”

The warmth of his hands finally landing on your waist is more telling than any answer he could give you, familiar even when new. 

[cameronspecial]

Mistakes That Can Be Undone

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: After finding an invitation that throws his whole world off balance, Rafe has a plan to get back the love of his life.

A/N: Inspired by "Something Blue" by Voilà.

Masterlist

When Rafe finds the invitation, his world becomes submerged in water, already causing him to feel dizzy. ‘You are invited to join Y/N Y/L/N and Hudson Jones to celebrate their wedding’ makes him forget what he is getting from Topper’s room in the first place. Of course, Topper got an invitation. He isn’t only Rafe’s friend but hers. The black-and-white extravagance of the invitation is not her choice. He knows for a fact she has always dreamed of a smaller wedding. Just their immediate family and closest friends attend the most important day of their life. 

———

Her head rested on his stomach as she scrolled through Instagram. A particular post caused her thumb to hesitate to swipe up. She angled her phone toward him, “Remember, Mrs. Thompson? She got remarried.” His eyes darted toward her screen to see a picture of their third-grade teacher in a wedding dress. “You follow her on Instagram?” he questioned. She shrugged, “I follow her daughter. She was always nice to me.” “Yeah, I remember Monica. She was hot,” he thought out loud, which caused Y/N to hit him with the back of her hand. “Don’t worry. She can never be as beautiful as you. Have you ever thought of what you would want for your wedding?“ She said, “Small wedding, extravagant marriage.” He chuckled, looking down at her with a loving smile. “Aren’t those the same thing?” Her head shook, “No. A wedding, for me, is a party to celebrate the union. A marriage is a lifelong commitment.” His arm wrapped around his waist. “That made no sense, but I will do whatever you want,” he whispered with his lips pressed against her temple. 

———

“Dude, what’s taking you so long?” Topper’s voice pulls Rafe out of his memories. Rafe blinks back the tears and places the invitation back onto the desk. He and Y/N broke up five years ago, yet a small part of him always thought they would find their way back to her. She is the love of his life and all because of one small mistake he made, he never gets to be her lifelong love again. It feels like some mistakes aren’t meant to be fixed. He picks up the second PS5 controller from the dresser and leaves the room with a newfound emptiness. 

———

He knows he shouldn’t be here. It is definitely not his place to be sneaking around the church to look for her. Yet another thing that is wrong with this scene. Y/N loves the beach and it was one of the reasons why she decided to do her graduate degree in Australia. He catches a glimpse of white lace stepping into a room and the door closes after the bridesmaid and mothers of the couple leave the room. He overhears a bridesmaid saying that Y/N needed a moment to herself. His grin struggles to break through his stoic expression. 

The tap on the door causes her to spin toward the sound. She takes a deep breath, already struggling to keep her tears in check so she doesn’t ruin her makeup. “I-I really need a moment to myself, please,” she croaks out. She wants to groan when the person behind the door ignores her pleas and enters anyway. Even though it isn’t her preferred wedding look, she still looks beautiful in the vintage lace wedding dress. The long flowy sleeves make her look like a goddess. The lace reaches up to her collarbone and it is a little too high for his liking. Their eyes meet and he gives her a small smile, “I know you need a second; however, I don’t know if I’ll still have the courage to do this after one.” Her heart stops at not only the sight of him but also the scent of him. Even after all these years, the leathery smell of his cologne makes her feel at home. “What are you doing here?” she questions, fighting the urgent to step forward. He does it for them, “He is the something new, so I’m here to be your something old.” She giggles with a shake of her head. “I think that tradition was referencing objects, not humans,” she advises. “Seriously, though, what are you doing here, Rafe?” His hand falls to the back of his neck. “Do you really want to marry him?” he asks, eyes falling to his shoes. 

“Of… of course, why wouldn’t I? I love Hudson.”

“You don’t sound very sure about that, Honey. Do you think maybe you are getting cold feet?”

“You don’t get to ask me that, not when we haven’t spoken to each other in years.”

Her downcast eyes tell him he is right. He risks taking a step further, reaching out to rest his hand above her elbow. The warmth of his hand has her wanting to melt against it. “You aren’t upset about us not talking, not really. Ask me what you want to ask,” he whispers with his lips touching the shell of her ear. She leans back to look him in the eyes, “Why didn’t you want to leave with me? Why be here now when you were the one to end us because you didn’t want to move to Australia with me?” He brings his palm up to rest on her cheek and gives her a meek smile. Tears begin to well over the edge of his eyes as he thinks about how he is the reason why she is getting ready to walk down the aisle to someone else. “I was an idiot. I was young and thought I needed my father’s approval more than I needed love. And I am so so sorry that I made that decision, which hurt you, Honey. But I promise you if you give me another chance, then I won’t be stupid enough to let you go again,” he vows, his thumb kissing her cheekbone. A deep breath falls out of her mouth, “I can’t, I’m supposed to get married today.” Nails dig into his heart, slowly tearing it apart to leave him for dead until a glint coming from just below her collarbone catches his attention.

He grasps drops to the oval locket hanging on a chain from her neck. Engraved flowers surrounded both of their initials at the front and he props it open to see his favourite picture of them still safe inside. Since they broke up, he thought she would’ve gotten rid of the necklace he gave her on their first anniversary. The symbol that he is serious about their relationship and has left behind his player ways. His gaze burns a hole into his gift to her, “How can I take your words seriously when the symbol of my love is around your neck on the day you are meant to marry the supposed love of your life? Tell me something, Honey, does he know his skin is pressing against a gift from me while he makes love to you?” 

Her eyes widen at his realization and silence falls in the room. He can see her thoughts spin around in her brain. “Is it cold in here?” she whispered, causing Rafe’s head to tilt till a smile craved itself on her face. “I think I need to go warm up in your Benz.” She laces her fingers through his and picks up the bottom of her dress. They both dash out of the room, running in the direction of the car. He tries to be as quiet as possible, except her giggles make their location known. Staff members’ heads follow the couple’s movement as they run down the hallway. Once the breeze from the wind hits their face, he unlocks the door to his vintage blue Benz that he got because she loved how the colour matched his eyes. He jumps over the driver’s side door and leans over to open the passenger’s door for her. Her laughter causes his heart to flutter. As soon as she is safely buckled into her seat, he quickly pulls out of the parking spot. Rafe can’t stop himself from smirking after spotting who he assumes is Hudson, jogging out of the church with an exasperated and confused look on his face. Y/N yells over her shoulder, “I’m so sorry, Hudson. I’ll explain everything later.” 

They drive until the church is out of sight. He chances a glance at her whilst he stops at a red light. The massive grin on her face causes flowers to bloom in his heart. She looks at him and places her hand over the gear shift so he can lace his fingers with hers. He brings her knuckles to her lips. “I’m not growing old with him,” she states. He can’t help but beam himself, “Good because I’m the only one who gets to be your something old and new.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

[friendship-ditch]

Whumptober Day 31 - Asking for Help

Platonic Aragorn x Fem!Reader ✼

Summary: Aragorn hits his head and has no choice but to ask the nearest person for help.

Warnings/Notes: I'M DONE! WHUMPTOBER COMPLETED HELL YEAHHHH

Word Count: 1356

 Aragorn had never been the best at taking care of himself. Ever. It was always ‘make sure everyone else is alright,’ then tend to his own wounds. More often than not this ended up with him in a worse situation than before; see: ignoring injuries until they get infected, nearly bleeding to death, and about 25 other accounts.

  That was the case once more.

  He didn’t remember hitting his head too hard in the skirmish in the woods… but apparently he had. He’d been flanked by orcs unexpectedly and upon realizing there was no way he could kill them all, took the risk and jumped into the river.

  Perhaps it was there that he hit his head. The water was ferocious, fighting to keep him like quick sand and nearly drowning him in the rough rapids. He would’ve likely drowned had he not managed to kick off a rock and float to shore, but he was rather woozy at the time and still couldn’t recall the exact details.

  All he knew was that he woke up, drenched and cold, on the shore of… somewhere he couldn’t quite recognize.

  The rocks beneath his bleeding head were a foul pillow to his aching body. He felt frozen to the bone, limbs jolting with shivers. He tried to sit up but was overcome by a wave of dizziness so he lowered himself back onto the ground with a grunt. He must’ve hit his head harder than he thought.

  It took a few moments of contemplation, and a lot of pain, but eventually Aragorn managed to sit up. His world spun even faster and he squeezed his eyes shut, lifting a hand to his forehead. It came away slightly stained with blood.

  Eventually Aragorn managed to stand. He was already not the most precise walker due to various wounds to his ankles and legs over the years, but now every step he took was uncalculated and clumsy. He’d be lucky if he made it a mile from the water before collapsing… but what other choice did he have?

  It was either wander in search of shelter and help, or give in and die. The latter wasn’t the most enticing, so he forced himself to walk despite the pain and dizziness. 

  Beneath him the ground changed from gravel and rocks to rough dirt and roots. He had to step carefully. It was a struggle, though. If it were not for the thick woods he was walking through and the stumps he caught himself on, he would be face down once more.

  After an hour or so of wandering Aragorn began to feel just… worse. The injury on his head was pounding as though someone was hammering a nail into his skull. It stopped bleeding long ago but during his trek he managed to stumble and bash it against a tree, starting the bleeding once more. His whole body felt warm, unnaturally warm against the chill of the coming night. He wouldn’t be surprised if he’d caught a fever in his weakened state but he tried not to think about it because there was nothing he could do.

  His stomach ached and his limbs felt almost too heavy to move. Every step was a struggle on his trembling legs. 

  Then, something came into view. A house of some sorts… a cabin or a cottage, tucked in a small clearing of the trees. Was he hallucinating? He had to have been. There was no way this sanctuary was so perfectly placed just at the end of his strength. A warm glow emanated from the windows, smoke billowing from the chimney. This had to have been a dream.

  With no other option left Aragorn decided to take the chance.

  You were sitting inside your home, tending the fireplace when there was a strange noise at the door. Some sort of a thumping sound, almost like a knock.

  You’d had quite a few strange visitors during your time in the woods, but nothing could have prepared you for this. When you opened the door, you found a half dead, half conscious man slumped at your feet. For a second you wondered if this was a joke but when you bent beside him, he groaned.

  “Help… please…” Aragorn whispered, voice raspy and hoarse. His eyes were closed and he was just barely hanging on. 

  You stared at him for a moment and in the split second he opened his eyes, he stared at you. And then he was gone, chest softly rising with breaths but whatever strength he had was utterly depleted.

  Aragorn woke up on another hard surface. For a minute he wondered if he dreamt it all and was still lying upon the shore. But it wasn’t rocks under his back… it was solid and flat. He reached a hand to touch it. Wood? 

  His eyes weakly fluttered open, then winced at the light. He felt warm, but no longer excruciatingly warm. It was a comfortable temperature. He was inside, on top of a table.

  There was a cold cloth draped over his forehead and a bandage overtop the deep gash. The smell of herbs was in the air, heavily. Where was he?

  “Hey, easy there.” You watched as he tried to sit up, knowing it was no use to try and keep him down. You planted a hand upon his back and eased him into a sitting position. “You’re okay.”

  Aragorn let out a weak groan as the world faintly spun around him, but it was nothing like before. He rubbed his eyes to clear the blurriness and they fell upon you. He could faintly remember your face. “Who are you?”

  “Y/N.” You replied, taking the cloth from his head and dunking it into a cold bowl of water. Then you laid it across his brow once more, soaking up any escaping droplets with a towel. “Who are you?”

  “I am… Aragorn.” He hesitated on whether to refer to himself as Strider or not, but decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. 

  “Well, Aragorn, I’ll tell you now that I’ve never seen someone with a concussion fight so hard. You weren’t close to dying or anything, but you’re stubborn.”

  He let out a weak laugh at that. “Stubborn? I suppose that’s right…”

  “You were feverishly fighting me, not that you remember… that’s probably a good thing.” You tilted your head. “What happened to you? How in the world did you end up here?”

  Aragorn told you what he could remember of his story of the orcs and the river. It hadn’t occurred to him that you were only getting him to talk to distract him from the horrible pain of removing the bandage from his head, but he cried out when you pulled it off. He stared at you like a dog who was rejected a treat, wary and uneasy, but then settled back down. “Ow…” He rubbed his forehead. It wasn’t bleeding.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.”

  You made a soft humming sound and stepped back, observing your work. The gash on his head had begun to heal pretty well for something so makeshift.

  “How does it look?” Aragorn asked hesitantly, a little embarrassed he had to rely on the help of a stranger, but thankful either way.

  You smiled. “Much better. You’ll be just fine with a little rest… as your medic, I cannot let you leave in this state, by the way. At least stay the night.” 

  Surprised, but not about to disagree, Aragorn returned your smile with one of his own. “If you wish.”

  He had a hearty bowl of stew and then took some medicine to help ease the dizziness, which was almost gone anyway. Afterwards you settled him down on the couch beneath a blanket and ordered him to sleep, claiming it would help him heal faster.

  Aragorn was in no position to argue, nor did he really want to. He was safe, warm, and had gotten the help he needed. It wasn’t often that he put his trust into strangers but you’d only given him reasons to do so, so he let himself drift off in your care.

[ashblooddragons]

You Broke Me First

A oneshot for my beloved @sugutoad for Aegon and her oc Myrielle.

word count: 2028

Warnings: mention of miscarriage, grief, smut, p in v smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), nipple play, lactation kink, Aegon is just trying to fuck his girls pain away, tell me if I missed something, yet again still new to writing smut so take that as you will.

Summary: it's been three moons since they lost Baelon, since Myrielle had her miscarriage. three moons of tears, screaming and wishing for nothing more than to feel the comfort of each others bodies, and now they finally can.

I sit on a plush green velvet armchair staring into the flames that flicker and swirl within the fireplace. I feel grief, but the thing I feel the most is rage, rage because of my mother. 

She hated me all these years, even when she passed she couldn’t help but inflict pain upon me. I think with a scowl as I touch the little bump that used to be larger, used to hold a sweet baby boy who should have lived, grown, and ridden a dragon. 

My mind often turns to the frail little babe, my sweet little Baelon, too little and too soon to live. I held for only three days before leaving me and Aegon behind to live with the Stranger instead. 

This pregnancy was already high risk, the Maesters said I should rest and stay in bed but when I heard my mother had passed, the grief was too much and I lost my sweet baby boy. 

I was so deep in thought I hadn’t heard Aegon come into our chambers, hadn’t heard him walk over to me, which is why I about jumped out of my skin when I felt his hand rest against my shoulder giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“The Masters told me you're fully healed?” He says kissing the crown of my head trying to find any way to reach, talk, mourn with me. 

“Yes, they said I am ready to bear children again when you see it fit.” I say reaching for his hand on my shoulder wishing to hold him as well. 

I hear him chuckle and turn to look up at him confused. “I did not ask that because I wished to pump another babe into you, I asked because I wish to make love to you again, when you see it fit of course.” He says with that cocky smirk that always takes my breath away, always leaving me wanting for him. 

But though his smirk makes my heart skip a beat, it is not the reason for the tears that come to my eyes and roll down my cheeks. It is his words the way he wants me, for me, the way he wishes to lay with me for the pleasure of it, not the want for a child, it’s the want for me. 

There are days I wonder how I could ever be so lucky to have him, a man who loves me unconditionally. And with that thought, I turn and look up at him and say. “And what if I see it fit now?” 

He only smiles wider before slamming his lips to mine, the ferocity of it making me gasp giving him room to delve his tongue into my mouth. I must fight to not rub my thighs together so he doesn’t have the satisfaction of knowing that only a kiss by him drives me mad with need. 

The feel of his tongue gliding along mine is intoxicating and when he nips at my lower lip I can’t fight the helpless moan that leaves.

“Gods I’ve waited two whole moons to hear those lovely songs again little bird, please keep singing for me. Let me hear you sing for me again.” He groans out as he breaks the kiss to stand in front of me looking down at me with a wolfish grin as if I’m merely a sheep for him to feast upon. 

The way his eyes wrack down my body brings a shiver to my spine and takes my breath away, I know I am wearing a nightgown and that he has seen all of me on multiple occasions but how it leaves me feeling like prey, like the most beautiful woman in the world has and always will make me dizzy with desire. 

“As much as I wish to feel that tight little cunt of yours grip my cock, I have been having dreams of tasting that cunt again so if you don’t mind.” He says as he gets onto his knees in front of me lifting my nightgown so he can see my plush thighs. 

I can’t help but smile as he kisses his way up my leg until he reaches my dripping core. He grabs my hips and pulls me towards the edge of the seat so he can reach me better.

“Fuck, your already dripping little bird, is this all for me?” He asks as he circles my little bundle of nerves knowing it drives me mad with need.

All I can do is nod in response.

“Well, what kind of man would I be not to enjoy this wonderful treat?”

He doesn’t give me a moment to respond before I feel the flat of his tongue against my core making me whimper with need. When he tastes the sweet tangy flavor of me he lets out a deep throaty groan gripping the flesh of my thighs most definestly leaving bruises that I will admire later. 

The feel of his tongue against me, his lips sucking at my pearl has my mind sprialing and the only thoughts in my head are Aegon, Aegon, Aegon. But when I feel his fingers sink into me the most obscene moans leave me, I just know our guards have either left or are very uncomfortable as there is no way they have not heard the moans leaving me nor the growls and groans that have left Aegon.

As If they hear my thoughts I hear a guard clear his throat and hear the sounds of his armored boots trailing away. But strangely I don’t seem to care, not when Aegon curls his fingers just right that I see stars only to then nip at my bud sending me over the edge to one of the strongest and quickest orgasm of my life. 

Once my peak has finally subsided does Aegon finally relieve my sex from his onslaught of pleasure. 

“Seven hells, little bird, how the fuck did I last this long without your songs?”

I can’t stop the giggle that erupts out of me at his words, for it is not that it is funny but that he is dead serious and seems to be contemplating his life choices for the last three moons as he’s waited for me to heal.

But just as the giggle rises out of me it stops at the look of complete awe on his face. “Don’t stop little bird, I’e missed that laugh much more than I’ve missed this cunt. That laugh has saved me more times than I can count or you want to know.” He says as he rubs circles into the skin off my thighs.

“Stop, you will make me blush.” I say but there is no bite behind it as we both know I’ve missed laughing just as much as he’s missed hearing it. 

“Hmm, is you blushing truly supposed to stop me? Because as far as I’m aware of it only makes a man lik myself wish to tease a woman like you more.” He says as he stands unbuttoning his jerkin and sliping it off letting it fall to the floor before reach for his undershirt pulling it oer his head in quick succession.

“Then give me something to laugh about.” I say breathlessly as I watch his hands go to the cords of his trousers. 

He only hums letting out a deep chuckle from the back of his throat. “You don’t seem to be in the laughing mood anymore, little bird, and neither am I.” He says as he lets his trousers fall to the ground stepping out of them only to pik me up and sit in the armchair instead of going to out marital bed. 

Something i’ve learned about Aegon in our years of marriage is this, he will take me whenever, wherever, and however he sees fit ‘court be damned of I want my pretty wife I’ll have my pretty wife.’ as he loves to say. So you can guess there have been a great many nights where he has taken me in this chair in this very position of me stradling him as he grips my hips hammering up into me. 

I feel him slowly lift my nightgown up my body until it is over my head and he throw it somewhere off to the side of our chambers. I feel the chill wind move past my skin sending shivers down my spine and hardening my nipples to hard peaks. 

“Gods your perfect.” He groans out as eh rakes his eyes up and down my body only stopping to watch as he rolls my hard peaks between his thumb and forefinger making me whimper as my legs shake with need. 

I feel something warm roll down my chest and look down to see Aegon has made my mothers milk leak out, when I go to apologize he hushes me and licks it up as he positions himself at my wet, warm entrance. 

When he sinks me down we both let out a groan of relief, him for ‘being home’ as he likes to say call it and me because I’ve missed this, feeling him stretch me so perfectly just on the edge of pain that it makes my eyes roll into the bac of my head. There is no better pleasure than feeling Aegon pulse and thrum inside me, for I know he is mine, that I am the one who makes him feel safe and at home.

He continues to suck and lap at my hard peaks knowing they have been hurting and uncomfortable as they have yet to dry up, only being a reminder of what we’ve lost, but in this moment it only makes me moan out his name as if it is the only think I know or wish to say. 

I about scream when he finally starts to thrust into me but it got caught in my throat by the sob pleasure instead. He hammers into me gripping my hips so tightly it burns just right. 

“Fuck, little bird, I’m gonna stay burid inyou until we have our Baelon again. I’m gonna chain you to that bed over there once I’m done with you here so there will be no escape from my seed inside you. You’ll be full with my child again soon enough.” He growls out as he hit the spoke he knows makes me see stars each time. 

“I–I want that! I want your babe in me again, I want to feel your seed in me all the time!” I moan scream out just as I cum on his cock choking on a sob of pleaure as my eyes roll back into my head.

“Fuck!” He moans out as he pills his sead into me thrusting once and twice more riding out his peak with a groan and a look of pure bliss. 

We sit there catching our breath for a bit, me still straddling him with his now soft cock inside me and him sitting in the chair rubbing my back and kissing the crown of my head. But instead of bliss and happiness I feel tuemoile and sick to my stomach.

As if sensing this Aegon taps my nose and says “What is on your beautiful mind, little bird?” 

And liek always I can not resist a request nor demand made by him. “Is it wrong? Is it wrong I wish for your seed to take again and for it to be a little boy? For me to have our little Baelon back in my arms?” I ask tears rolling down my face from the guilt and shame of this want, this dream.

“No, but if anyone says it is, I’m sure there is a spike or two for them and their family.” Aegon responds with a cocky smirk and jesting raise of his brows. 

It makes em giggle again, making him smile. When we look at each other again I can see we both still hurt, may always will, but if we have each other we can make it, the grief won’t drown us and we can make it to the shore together.

@sugutoad @ilikefelines @baybaybear1 @classicsimpforaaronwarner @sachaa-ff @mmogurl

[mysticalabhainn]

Untitled | Roronoa Zoro x Shy! Female Reader

A/N: Not proofread, self indulgent, female reader. Just had this in my head and needed to get it out.

Warnings: Nightmares? Zoro has feelings, maybe OOC ? If you can think of any let me know.

If it had been anyone else who has entered his cabin that night Zoro would have told them to get the hell out. But there you stood, clad in your pajamas, holding onto a blanket presumably from your own room, tears threatening to spill as you softly spoke "'Ro...I had a nightmare...could I stay in here with you, please?" Your small frame swaying in time with the boat.

He could feel his chest tighten and cheeks start to flush as he nodded his head at you, his expression softening as you shyly joined him in his bed. He wasn't much for affection, wasn't much for a lot of things but whenever you were around it was like you made him a completely different person.

"...you wanna talk about it?" He spoke roughly, his throat dry from his nights sleep. Meekly you pressed your back against his firm chest, looking for him to envelope you in a warm and safe embrace, which he obliged.

"No, not really, it felt so real, had me so scared 'Ro..." you hiccupped, the tears that you had previously held in spilling over, wetting the arm that rested under your head, Zoro sighed, he knew you had bad dreams but he hadn't anticipated that they could make you feel like this. "Your safe here with me, always are" he states plainly, leaving a small kiss to the back of your head, something he was sure you weren't able to feel but the way your body relaxes into his says otherwise.

"You make me feel so safe" you whispered "I love you" Zoro sucked in a breath, hearing you say those words had his head dizzy, he'd be lying to himself and to you if he said he hadn't dreamt of hearing those three words come out of your mouth.

"I love you too..." he choked out, surprised to hear himself saying it back, you were his crew-mate, his fellow strawhat, his whole world.

"Now get some sleep before I take it back" he said before kissing you on the cheek "we'll talk more in the morning" he pulled you closer, heart hammering out of his chest, he loved you so much. He couldn't wait to make you his.

[jungshookz]

LVEB couple morning love making and it’s just so fluffy and horny and something to remind me how single i am😭

y/n is always nice and warm in the morning but for some reason it feels like she's been EXTRA nice and warm this holiday season and namjoon doesn't usually find himself this dizzy with thoughts of his girlfriend but he woke up a little earlier than usual after having dreamt about her (he doesn't even recall what happened in the dream but he's getting flashes of her soft thighs n the smell of her pear shampoo) and when he looks over to see her still dozing peacefully he doesn't want to wake her up but also...

namjoon pokes a tongue out to swipe over his slightly chapped bottom lip as he snakes an arm around your waist and brings you towards him and he can't help but feel a little extra excited at how perfectly you slot into his body

he's trying to be careful to not wake you up but also if you just so happened to wake up because of his attempt to cuddle then that wouldn't be the worst thing in the world

he buries his face into the crook of your neck and takes a gentle inhale of your shampoo and the soft smell of your skin (he always thinks you have a very natural scent to you and you say it's because of all the baking you do) and he doesn't even realize that his left hand has been wandering down this whole time until he's playing with the delicate waistline of your panties, fingers plucking with the little bow at the top

"shit." namjoon mutters to himself, swallowing thickly when he feels himself getting hornier -- he really doesn't know what's gotten into him this morning but he's just hoping that you wake up soon because his situation is starting to ache a little-

"mm..." your brows scrunch together slightly as your back arches slightly in a stretch, your bum pressing against namjoon's front making him let out an involuntary moan

and when y/n is fully awake (albeit still a little bit sleepy) the first thing she's aware of is that namjoon is already awake because there's something stiff pressing against her thigh and she does take the opportunity to tease him a little bit because he usually gets bashful about waking up like this and not wanting to disturb her sleep (truth be told she loves being woken up like this) and it seems to go 0 to 100 pretty fast because soon enough she finds herself with her shorts and panties hanging off of one ankle and the musky scent of namjoon's sandalwood shampoo taking over every one of her senses and-

"joon-" you whimper, a breath catching in your throat when namjoon presses in further, one hand clasping your waist while the other cups your bum and gives it a squeeze

"holy fuck, you feel so good-" namjoon groans, head dropping against your shoulder as a shiver shoots up his spine at the sensation (you feel so incredibly nice and so incredibly warm) and he pulls back slightly before pushing himself all the way in

"please fuck me, please-" you are not a woman of many words outside of the bedroom but namjoon loves how talkative you can get when the two of you are intimate and he's trying very hard to hold himself back and take it slow because the two of you did just get up but when you're begging him for his dick like this especially after the dream he had, he doesn't know if he can control himself any further

anyway lveb!couple supremacy for life

🎄christmas at cee's place 2023!🎄

[withlove-angel]

A little fluffy short as im working in a Luffy yandere one :)

My cute tomato

"Sanji?" Y/n ask entering the ship kitchen

Sanji looked up from the fridge, with a startled look. He wasn't used to having people walk in the kitchen after midnight "Angel? What are you doing here?" In truth, he had hoped that he were just imagining things, that he were just seeing an illusion or hearing sounds that weren't there. Unfortunately, once he saw her, he had to accept that his eyes hadn't mislead him.

"Its everything okay?" She walk closer to him, worried, she could easily read the cook.

He was caught completely off guard by y/n’s question. He was cooking, at 2 am. It was safe to say that he had been discovered. Sanji turned around slowly, wanting to assess the situation better. She was walking towards him, trying to get a better look at him. In the dim light of the kitchen, her concern was clearly visible. Sanji could smell the fragrance of her hair, like a pleasant breeze, as she drew closer to him. "Couldn't sleep again? Nightmares?" She ask softly Sanji’s eyebrows furrowed, a sign of confusion. Why was y/n awake at this ungodly hour? Surely, she should be in bed? “Y-yes,” he finally nodded, his eyes darting towards her. He was a little surprised that she had noticed, and couldn’t help but wonder if that meant that she knew what was going on. She wrap her arms around his neck, huging him soft "what are you making?" She say curious looking at the counter with a lot of ingredients.

He blinked in surprise, unsure of what to do. He looked at her arms wrapped around his neck, slowly turning red as he struggled to say words. He glanced at the ingredients on the counter, unsure of how to answer her question. "Um... Nothing special?" he replied awkwardly, his words coming out jumbled as he tried to suppress his embarrassment. His cheeks burning from y/n's warm touch, Sanji looked down at the floor. She giggles "still shy about us dating?" His eyes widened at her words. He hadn’t expected a question like that in the middle of a midnight cooking session. “W-what!? No!” he protested. He shook his head, his face flushing even harder, his eyes fluttering as he felt all those emotions come to the surface once again. “I mean, yeah, maybe a bit.” With a sheepish grin, he looked away as the blush deepened.

She finds it adorable, she slowly kiss him on the cheeks "who would imagine Sanji, the men who flirted with all women, would be so embarrassed dating?" She couldn't help but tease him slightly.

He didn’t know how to explain to her that this situation was completely different from flirting with random women. He had always been confident and smooth when dealing with girls, but this time he was all giddy and awkward. The reason was because she was someone Sanji cared deeply about. The affection he felt for her made him act completely out of character. He was speechless. He felt like he was in a dream as y/n kept her arms around the back of his neck "Cat got your tongue?"

"Y-yes," Sanji nodded, still not finding his voice. He was stuck, feeling his senses swimming as she was so close to him. His eyes kept darting from her face to the ingredients on the counter, his heart fluttering. He felt dizzy, but he didn't dare move away from her. In a wave of suddenly confidence he pulls her for a sweet kiss, he felt his whole world come to a halt when sbe lean closer. In that moment, all he could think of was how beautiful and amazing she was. The only thing that mattered was her lips against his. He knew that he only had a few seconds before she backed away from the kiss. But those were the best seconds of Sanji's life. He closed his eyes, feeling y/n’s lips, the softness of her touch, and the way she held him in her arms. The feelings were almost inconceivable, causing him to blush profusely and cling to her even more.

______________________________________

"I could easily get used to your clingy behavior" she chuckles. Sanji hugging her, his face snuggle on her neck. He smiled, pressing himself more firmly against her body. With his face buried in her neck, he could feel her warm breath on his cheek. The feeling was intoxicating. “I... I can’t help it, my love. I just...” He started, only to find himself stumbling over his words. “I just really love you, and I’m just so happy that you’re in my arms. I'm lucky to have you.”

Hope you enjoyed

Please ♡ if you liked

[netherfeildren]

The Cassandra Complex : Chapter IX : Persephone

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence; Angst

A/N: *babu frik voice* heeeyyyyyyyy

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 5.6K

Read on AO3

PART II

CHAPTER IX : PERSEPHONE

What are we made of but hunger and rage?

Anne Carson, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry

Din pauses mid-hunt, heart jolting back against his ribs – on Corellia’s Maker blasted surface for a bounty once again. He’d avoided returning here since that last time, but with the kid gone now, with nothing to do with himself but count his losses, he’d sucked it up, taken the private contract, and now… something in the distance, dying or coming alive… it rings, it howls. 

The call comes again: low, far off, electrifying, agonized. He changes direction and follows it, recognizing it like he’d recognize the call of his own name, his ad’ika’s cries, the sound of a heart beating or dying. 

He’d imagined this a million times in a million different ways, turning a corner, another, suddenly dizzy and sick and terrified, terrified. He hastens his pace, holding his blaster tight against his thigh to keep it from jostling, and promises himself he won’t actually think of it, won���t imagine the full dream or nightmare of it, not yet, not yet… but there is something out there, just ahead. Something that grabs hold of the pillar of his spine and tugs, knows him, calls to him. 

His heart beats faster than an X-wing, and he can’t help but fall into weakness and hope. He lets the thought of you bleed in, something he allows himself only in the most dire of moments, when he’s so alone or so afraid or so angry he can’t control the missing. Your face, your voice, your scent like wading through water, the memory of your skin like sharing your name with someone for the first time, like flying or being alive; a knowing unlike anything else, like experiencing the whole world, your whole life in one single blink, holding it like a just-about-to-fall tear over the ledge of your eye. 

He remembers you like he remembers being alive, always there, always present, the next beat of his heart. 

He tries to measure his breathing, feels his throat spasm, almost choke him, and he forces himself with all of his considerable strength to control his movements, to not break out into a full unthinking sprint. One more slink around a cornered building, and then you’re just there. Just there in the distance. The lines and slopes of the girl he used to love. 

Nothing more than the movement of breathing shadow, and he wants to dwell on the past tense of his own thoughts, fixate and pick them apart, but he moves past it. Focuses on the image, perhaps invisible to someone who’d not come to love the dark as he had, but he finds you, he’d always be able to pick you out of the darkness. Sliding slowly along the building face, as if melded to the steel, slithering along the night like a mercury thief. 

Din felt he’d become a hostile, barren wasteland of a man these past two years; quick to anger, quick to aggression, worse than ever before; miasma within his heart now, no longer the sun. The only thing that had tempered him, gentled him, had been Grogu, and now even he too, was gone. And he knew the dark saber hadn’t helped, if anything, the thing had worsened his issues. The power of it wasn’t something that complimented this too restless heart of his.

You’re moving up ahead slowly, and he watches the line of your back, the slopes of your shoulders, the shifting of your hair, and he’d hoped for so long, all these agonizing days and months and years apart, that he’d look over his shoulder one day, and see you in the distance, that a crowd would part and you’d be there. Through his mission for Grogu, losing his ad’ika, this time now, alone, he’d looked for you, hoped for you. 

He can feel your focus elsewhere, ignorant of your surroundings, honed on the pull of the shadows around you, perhaps, as you keep yourself cloaked, or your steps forward, to where he does not know, but there’s zero awareness in his direction. And he realizes that for the first time in this catch and trap game the two of you had always enjoyed playing – you don’t feel him coming.

You pause suddenly, hand like a flash of the sky trailing along the building face, bracing yourself there for a moment. He’s a several paces distance away from you, and he’d have thought you’d have sensed him by now, but as you come to a standstill beneath a jutting awning, a light drizzle starts to mist the air, and it’s as if the two of you are separated by one final veil, one last test. You, apart, in your own world, him, waiting to be let in. And you stand there, still and propped up by the side of the building, head tilting back slowly to peer up at the dark sky above, and with the slightest shift of your chin, there you are. Your face again before him for the first time in two years. 

Din sees you again. 

And suddenly, the shock and anger clear from his head long enough to realize that there’s something off – your gait or your posture or the careful measuredness with which you press each foot in front of the other, a strange limp and shift that favors your right side, the way you’re using the building’s face to keep yourself upright.

A cold dread freezes deep in his belly. 

Something’s wrong. 

He watches the flutter of your lashes as you close your eyes to let the cold raining mist fall upon your upturned face, and the sight of you deals Din a famished, hollow feeling; his heart working in a fast and broken rhythm. There’s something wrong, something wrong, and the organ works so hard it hurts him, almost forces the metal around his chest to rattling with its ferocity. 

The world suddenly seems inverted, mirrorlike. The black puddles on the sides of the streets, filling with dark mercury that reflect the sight of you. And he can feel each breath filter through his lungs, as if he could taste each particle of oxygen as it moves through his body, stepping out and away from himself, away from you, frightened, anxious, lost, lost, lost. He wants this, and yet, he does not. Had wished for this for days and hours and years and weeks and yet suddenly, he wants to turn and run far away and not face the reality of his past and his heart. 

I’ve lost my way, ended up in some strange, narrow land where I recognize nothing. Not even myself, not even you. Almost. 

This unexpected bounty seems like nothing more than a bone chilling triumph.

You’re the same, and yet not. Your body still soft, your curves still lush, but there’s a sort of meagerness, a stillness to you that’d not been there two years ago.

It seems you’d both lost something. 

He has to take a moment to catch his breath, hiding within the shadows of the buildings edge, he mimics your lean against the damp wall, and you’re still looking up at the falling sky, impossibly, more beautiful than he remembered, and he’s suddenly afraid that he’ll vomit inside his helmet. His heart flutters and writhes and screams so that he’s dizzy, tremulous, sick and hot and cold all over, on the verge of tears. Tears? And then suddenly, he’s angry. He’s so fucking angry from one moment to the next. Shocked into fury. How can you be here? Leaving him to muddle about in his shock and disorientation, prancing about this planet which he’d told you, he’d told you, was too dangerous. You never listened to him. 

He moves again, propelled by righteous anger. 

And he’s silent, silent; Din is nothing but the ghost you made him. He’s almost there, his fingertips stretching towards this dream he’s had for so many days, for two years and endless seconds. He is so close. You pull your eyes from the rain, looking away, down the opposite end of the dark street, and it’s as if he can feel your mind thrum and whirl in all directions but his. Turn to look at me, turn and notice me. Why the fuck haven’t you noticed me? I’ve been searching for you for two years and my whole life. And then a sudden cacophony of crashing and desperate clumsiness, no longer measured or restrained, full of hunger and rage, and you finally realize; jumping, skittering ahead suddenly, spinning blindingly. So fast you’re a blur, frightened out of your skin. 

He doesn’t realize you’ve moved until you’re almost out of his reach once again. And Din snaps into color and focus at that singular threat, that hint of the possibility of repeated loss. He moves – covers a distance of approximately fifty yards in no more than five or six seconds. Coming up behind you fast and hard so that there’s no mistaking the sound of muscle and beskar and man barreling down upon you, teeth bared and ready to snap you up by the nape, drag you away, kept forever, were in not for the prison of his own promises. 

You move again like a flash and a wink, and then you’re spinning, spinning, pulling the violet of plasma from your cloak on him in one of those lovely flourishes you’d always preferred. Like a dancer and a swan and the love of his life. You pull your weapon on him and Din feels that ferocious love that brandishes teeth and your name spark and burst alive within his heart once again; amazed and uncaring of the threat on his own life.

It beats, it beats, he thinks, I live. What does it matter what happens after this? I’m alive again.

You bare your teeth at him in a tiny, fractured snarl, incongruous with the immensity of the fear held in your eyes. But that bursts too, and at the last moment, when he finally remembers he has to be alive to take you for himself again, that he can’t let you actually kill him in a fit of fright, that he’s angry with you and needs to tell you so, he brings his arms up to block the death dealing blow. His vambraces spark between the two of you, and he wonders suddenly if every man that’s stood in this place Din is now in, waiting to meet his end at your hand, had felt as grateful and awed as he does now, nothing but violet ends and eyes like a whisper and a scream.  

And when those eyes focus, when you realize it’s him, that soft mouth he’d dreamt of endlessly, spilled his seed to the memory of in his sleep, for months after you’d gone, rolling around like a dog in the nest of your blankets trying to find any last wisp of your scent, it falls open on a small gasp of shock, wet and lush, something that used to belong to him, his name sitting silent on the tip of your tongue as if he could see the very shape of it. There’s something strange happening in your eyes in the moment recognition meets cognizance, where memory meets present, and then they’re both like a scream, fracturing with horror, perhaps, shock, surely. Nothing he wants to see there in this moment. 

They shutter, go flat, deep and fathomless and that fear of his is back, his heart like a momentary sun come to life with your recognition goes dark and cold again, and you freeze still and thrumming with repressed energy, all the strength in the galaxy seemingly held within this slip of a girl he used to love, and then metamorphosing instantly into a supernova. As if all the energy surrounding the two of you is sucked into a vacuum only you wield, something like a momentary hovering of hollow silence before you’re exploding in movement, violence, the kind that salivates and hungers. 

You pull your saber back, a jagged shriek in your throat, and he realizes you’re as angry as he is, even more. When you bring the saber down against his vambraces again he feels the force of it, he feels the Force, ringing in his teeth. His molars, grinding down into nothing against each other, holding you at bay as you bring your blade down on him again and again and again. And in the very millisecond before he pulls it from his belt and bears the terrible, dark truth of it to you, he thinks that he shouldn’t, that he should just let you kill him. It’s your right after all. You’d owned him from that very first moment in that dark alcove on that nothing planet in the middle of a too large, too lonely galaxy. His life had been yours since then, and so it only fell to reason that it should be yours to end as well. 

But he does not. And when he engages the Darksaber, lets it meet the purple haze of your lightsaber, a momentary collision of two giants, the pause the two of you take to breathe each other in is like breathing in life again after two years of barren death. 

The sight of it sets you off worse than the sight of his mantle. Something affronted like how dare he wield your weapon? You spin, parry, spin, parry. Your blows ringing in his ears, sending his heart to beat in his throat, and most surprising of all, or perhaps not, there’s nothing restrained in the Force you strengthen your strikes with. You want to hurt him, and he can feel the energy of you thrumming through the bones of his arms, strengthening him further, strangely, rather than weakening him. And he thinks again, something is wrong. 

You’re expelling energy too quickly, and you send a burst of the Force forward, towards his chest, trying to push him back, away, but it’s weak, a tepid attempt at best. The Darksaber hums and spits in his grasp, heavy as lead, and he returns one hard blow, bringing the terrible thing up above his head and with the swing of his arms, an executioner set to kill this weak rebellion of yours, down to meet you in a cross of the two blades so that your faces are right up against each other. You pant mist into the air, fogging his vizor, and he feels his cock thicken.

You’re so close. And he is so predictable. 

“It’s you,” he breathes. 

He wants to demand you scream at him, say his name, curse him, anything. Let me hear your voice, he wants to beg, but you spin again, twirl to bring your saber in a slicing motion towards his throat, another screech of painful frustration. He blocks, shoves you back, takes in the lagging of your strength, the too fast gulps of breath, the tremble in the lines of your arms. He deals you another hard blow, harder than the first. He’d lost things along the way since you, yes, but he’d gained others. He was stronger now, older, perhaps, but with a harshness about him that granted a sort of advantage in the ways he maneuvered himself, fought his battles. Something he’d not possessed before he’d lost so much. 

You send another kick of the Force towards him, this one even weaker than the first, and he hears the low, pained whine you gurgle in your throat, sees the break in your expression. Pain. He shoves you back.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” He spits, graveled and low through the modulator. The sound of him does something else to you. He watches a shiver and a jerk move through you, something jagged, particularly painful, and then you go sort of limp, holding yourself with a sort of wanness, your eyes seeming to lose all color and shape and depth in the instant the sound of his voice rings. He sees the strength in your fingers go limp around the hilt of your blade, and he knocks it from your grasp, sends it flying. When the dull thud of it extinguishing against the ground sounds, it seems to bring you to momentary wakefulness again so that you’re skipping backwards and away from him, pulling a blade from a fold in your tunic close to your breast, a tiny, silver thing. Inconsequential – no, beskar, the most important thing in the world. 

“What’s this?”

“For you.”

“Are you sharing your weapons with me now?”

“I’d share anything with you.”

“Another shiny thing to remind me of my shiny?” You’d laughed, but he’d seen the truth of sadness in your eyes. The reality that said, you’d not share everything, not that one last thing. And when he’d covered your eyes and lifted the lip of his helmet to kiss you soft and slow and sorry, his words had rung hollow and false and rebellious in his ears. 

You pull the little knife back, your other palm held out in front of you towards him, as if that single hand had the power to keep him at bay. The sight of it breaks him. He extinguishes the Darksaber, lets it fall to the ground to keep yours company because of course, of course that hand holds power. All the power in the whole galaxy, held in the small palm of an even smaller girl who’d take up all the space in the sky if only she saw in herself what he does. 

He takes in the tremble in your hand as you hold it up towards him, and Din feels, suddenly, so tired. 

You’re terrified. Alit with fear and power, something that almost glows with the force of your terror, the warp and weft of all life in the cosmos made visible, but there is a jaggedness to the manifestation of it. Something dark and serrated, all your hurts visible and plain for him to see. 

He pauses, terribly frightened, terribly sad, suddenly. What had been done to you? 

He’d been angry at you for so long, he is still angry. At times, he’d even feared he hated you. It was like some sort of betrayal you’d forced him into, a betrayal you’d wrought by your own hand, driving that love he’d felt to confused resentment colored in hurt. 

But there is something ridiculously, illogically frightened inside of you now as the two of you face each other once again. On the verge of tears or breaking, your fragmentation, obvious for everyone to see. He focuses on that small, trembling hand, and he’s entirely bested, and you smile, teeth flashing white, but limp and he knows it for the lie it is. 

-

“Oh, you again?” Your mocking laugh rings more false than any lie you’d ever told him. There is only the truth of tears in your voice. 

Your first words to him, an echo of a previous night. Terrible. Cowardly. You take a step back, another that he matches, and your tether, that dark red thread screams the song of finally. 

Finally, finally we’re together again.

You take him in, the long drape of his cloak, the frayed and worn edges. The old rusted vermillion of his armor, gone, replaced by something newer, stronger, better. The helmet, the helmet, the helmet, that dark, yawning pit of the transparisteel visor. 

Beskar and Creed and centuries of culture and religion and the Way. 

Your Mandalorian. 

An entire sun in the heart of a single man and enough love in yours to fill the entirety of the darkness in the sky for him.

“Maker, you’re extra shiny now.”

He answers with a frustrated hiss. “What are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you to stay off Corellia?” Said as if no time had passed at all, and he was still allowed to boss you around. He takes a step forward, and you flash a snarl at him, as menacing as you can muster with the state you’re currently in, tightening your grip on his little knife which tells more than you want him to know at this moment. 

“That was so long ago, and you always talk so much nonsense. You can’t really expect me to remember all of it, can you?” He growls again, another menacing foot forward. “Stay back,” you warn but take your own step forward too, slicing the blade through the air towards his neck. He blocks your arm, catching you by the bend of your elbow and shoves you back hard. Hard enough to send you into a clumsy stumble so that your back slams into the hard wall behind you, your head cracking against the stone. You’re left dizzy, disoriented, and there’s a particularly raw scrap of skin over your left shoulder that hadn’t been allowed to heal in weeks. Nausea bobs in your throat, floods your mouth, and he jerks at the sound of your skull meeting uncompromising stone, makes to reach for you, but then catches himself and freezes when you flinch away from him, going deathly still at the half animal groan of pain you let out. The helmet cocks slowly to the side, taking you in in that predatory way of his, all hunter. 

“What’s wrong with you?” His voice is so level and so cold and so frightening. 

The feeling of not knowing each other is suddenly so strong that you turn your face away from him sharply, sucking in quick panting breaths through your open mouth, tasting the putrid Corellian air, cold and slick against your tongue. This is wrong – this discomfort, this feeling of having been away from each other for so long that you’re once again strangers, that you can’t immediately recall the feel of his hands on you in tenderness, the smell of his hair, the taste of his come. But: liar, liar, you could never forget those things. 

You try and measure your voice, fail. “Nothing’s wrong with me. What’s wrong with you?” Slow breaths through your nose. Control yourself, please, please, get ahold of yourself. 

“Are you hurt?” He spits, all anger and threat of aggression now. 

“No.”

“Do you know how to do anything other than tell lies?”

“No,” You snap back. Truth finally, for what else are you to do? A girl who was never really so much a girl, but creature, creature, dark creature. Thalassian hissing and betrayal in the shape of a little Twi'lek sound and stumble through your broken mind. Molded into something worse by your own hands and weakness and fear. And you’re so angry at the fate of you, at the cards you’d been dealt. You want to curse and spit at him, you want these two years to go on forever, and you want him to take you into his arms and kiss you. 

You want him to never have to see you as you are now, for you to only live in his memory as he’d left you, well and his, and you want to break something. No— something is about to be broken here, but you can’t be sure what. You think it might be you, but you have no heart left to break, he took it, it was eaten, and too little mind remains for further shattering. 

The terrible voices that had lived inside your head your entire life, these past endless months, your own voice in that dark hole to the memory of: Master, I tried to make myself into what you wanted so many times and failed so many more times and can only seem to be, truly, what this man here before me demands of me, myself. You had rarely ever been yours, but Din, Din had always belonged only to you, from that first moment. Tucked away in the farthest and smallest recess of your mind, almost like a fracture in the dark, the memory of his strength, his honor, his loyalty, the great conviction of character and goodness every part of him was imbued with, he lived there, in that small pocket you’d managed to keep for yourself.

“You and that smart fucking mouth – you never know when to quit.”

You huff a saccharine laugh, your eyes filling with tears. You’re sure you must look unhinged, fracturing and hysterical all at once. “Smarter than you, that’s for sure.”

Both hands on his hips, he sighs then, long and frustrated, looking away from you with a shake of his head, and it makes you feel like the lowest piece of scum. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, listen to the jilt of his metallic encasings, the things that, second to your own stupidity, would always keep you away from each other, as he steps closer to you again. The ever present air of his concern hovers between the two of you as you press the balls of your hands hard into your eye sockets, willing your tears away. 

“Maker,” you groan. The will to fight leaves you, and your head, your head, it hurts. A piercing hot pain right through the center of your brain. You can hear the muffled sound of his voice saying your name, asking if you’re okay again, and you want to scoff and ask him in return how he could ever think you could ever be anything even close to okay after everything you’d done. But you focus on the blurry notes of him, that sliver of cracked light where he lives in your mind, the familiar sound of your name falling like salt from his mouth, like the phantom pain of an amputated limb, and let the fog clear slowly. 

When you open your eyes again, it’s nothing but clear reality: you, Din, all of your mistakes lying at your feet like two discarded sabers and dead hope. Two years of darkness is too long a time. You’d made such a terrible mistake, allowed such terrible things to be done to yourself. You want to run away from the sight of his anxious hovering, arms outstretched, poised to clutch and grab. You shy away, cowering into the wall, and you hear the sound of angry frustration he coughs out at the sight of the fear you can’t help but feel. 

But it’s your prize after all your sacrifice, can’t he see that? The only thing that remains.

All you have left now is the knowledge of how to be afraid. 

He appears to you, suddenly, as if he’d grown seven feet taller in two years. Brighter than any sun or moon in the galaxy, but also, exactly the same, and also, again, and at the same time, darker, colder, older. So heavily armored, like a wound of beskar looming above you in the night, outlined in pale, flickering silver, ready for war. He’s different, changed, unrecognizable. Something almost frightening, something that almost frightens you, as if he’d left the sun behind, ripped it out of the very sky. Finally, more droid than man, it seems. 

It makes you angry. 

Affronted, spluttering, you spit his own question back at him, “What happened to you?” Looking him up and down with all the contempt and disappointment you can muster.

He scoffs, planting his hands on tapered hips again, learning back on his heel. “What do you mean?”

“Look– Look at you. You were supposed to have greater care. You were supposed to be okay.” And you bear your teeth in the insinuation of a growl or a shriek. Completely nonsensical when he appears, for all intents and purposes, bigger and broader and stronger than he’d ever been before. “What happened to you?”

He takes you in, so still and so silent and so intimidating, and you’re about to cower and flinch once more before he says as simple as heartbreak, “You.” But of course. “You planted a rage inside of me. Do you understand what that is?”

How could you not? And so you tell him, “Yes,” and there are no surprises here. You should’ve been wiser, should’ve known that the two of you would meet like this again eventually. Angry and hurt and unrecognizable. That at the end of everything, all roads lead to Din. You had done something terrible, these were the consequences of your actions. 

“Where have you been?” He asks, but you look away, a quick shake of your head, not that question, any question but that one. He snarls, taking an aggressive step forward, and you press yourself into the wall at your back, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Please–” and you won’t cry, you’ll kill yourself right here and now infront of him before you let these Maker damned tears fall, but he cannot touch you, “Please, don’t touch me.” If he does, you’ll lose. You know it. 

“Where have you been?” He asks again. “I searched for you. Everywhere I went, I searched for your face in crowds. So many things happened to me.” His voice breaks, “Terrible things, wonderful things, and at every step I wanted to share them with you, and you weren’t there for any of it.” You see the jerk and thrum of his body as he forces himself not to take you up into his grasp. “Where were you?”

In a hole in the ground, in the dark, in my nightmares. To tell him that you’d destroyed everything, that you’d let yourself fall into a trap as bad as the worst thing that’d ever been done to you by your own choice, by way of your own actions, that you’d suffered, oh, how you’d suffered, and that it’d all been such a mistake and that you’re sorry and terrible and small now – to tell him all that would be to lose him in an irreversible way. 

“Nowhere.”

“Fuck you,” he scoffs, turning to spin in a directionless circle, trying to walk his frustration with you off. And you want to fall to your knees and beg him to forgive you for things he knows naught about. My soul has been so fearful, so violent: forgive its brutality. 

A nod of your head and a small yes is all you can give him. The pain in your skull splinters and breaks and spreads like cracks in ice, and you try and swallow your wince and shudder but you hear his own pained groan of recognition. 

His voice gentles: “I’ve thought about you for two years. I’ve searched for you for two years, and this is how you meet me again? Cold and hostile – as if we were strangers, as if all that time together had never passed between us? I missed you,” he says, and you wish for your hole in the ground once again.

You dig your nails into the meat of your palms, break skin. “What were a few months of peace and happiness in the shadow of madness, of history?”

He’s quiet, for a moment, and you know the breaking is here now. “Were you?” He asks in a very small voice, like a child, unsure and fragile. “Happy? Did I make you happy?”

It hurts, the sound of his voice hurts, worse than the fire in your skull, worse than the bright white of torture, worse than being alive. “Yes, Din,” You look right into the darkness where you know his eyes are. Be brave now: “Of course you did.”

“I wasn’t sure. I– sometimes… after… you made me doubt.”

“I thought of you,” you say, and your voice sounds as if it’s going away from you, “When I dreamt, I dreamt only of you. You want to know where I was?” Your head is going to split in two, and there’s fire in your back, your shoulder and your spine and every inch of skin that encases you, as if you’re coming alive in flames suddenly. Awake and aware of all that had been done to you for the very first time. It hurts everywhere. “I was asleep, or I was in a dream.” You look up at the sky again, and there’s red everywhere, and the two of you should have stayed in that warm cave all that time ago, safe and together. Together in water. “I was tangled in red strings or memories, I don’t know. I’m sorry I left you.” The first thing you should have said. 

Your mind spins and spins in a million different directions, ricochets and slingshots back to him, always him, always Din, always, always. Such a terrible thing, you’d found in your captivity, to be held so by someone entirely unattainable. And yet, here he is. The very sun held inside the heart of the man standing before you, and it is so bright and so strong, and as you focus on it, there, in his mind or his soul, stitched into the very fabric that Din is made of, the only person you’ve ever loved in your whole life and also entirely a stranger now, there’s something or someone else– strong in the Force, stronger than you, even, perhaps. You’re confused for a second. Something unrecognizable, young and vulnerable and pure and yet with a certain type of innocent wisdom unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Your eyes briefly focus one last time to take him in full, and the realization slices through your mind, your heart; shock, betrayal, grief for the thing you could never give him, would never have. 

“You have a son?”

And then nothing, the ground rising up faster than light, a last flash of silver beskar and the snapping of the last threads in your mind as you finally find a pool of dark unconsciousness that doesn’t swim with nightmares for the first time in years.

Chapter X

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

[askinkiskarma]

Cruel Summer | Chapter II: Before It Sinks In

Pairings: Neteyam x (f)Human!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k words

Warnings/notes: angst, allusions to/mentions of smut, friends-with-benefits, mutual pining, 18+ minors DNI

Synopsis: After the Sully kids get attacked by the newly found Recombinant Soldiers, Jake makes the tough decision to leave the Omatikaya. Neteyam is forced to say goodbye to you, to your relationship and to the life he always dreamed about.

A/N: So I decided to split what was originally supposed to be one chapter into two, and this way I get to make good use of the amazing song that @karma-is-a-cat-purringinmylap was amazing enough to turn me on to, that just happened to work like a glove (the first non TS song in my works!!!)! I think I will try sticking to shorter chapters, as I feel 10k chapter might be a a bit overwhelming overall. Now, did this chapter make me cry several times? Yes. Will it make you cry? I'm hoping you will tell me soon ;)

enjoy besties ily xoxo

: ̗̀➛ listen to Before It Sinks In here : ̗̀➛ masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x)

Suspended in the air, I hear myself breathing

Hanging by a thread, my heart is barely beating

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Neteyam watched as you ran towards the lake that he wanted so badly to show you, he was practically buzzing by the time he got to Hell’s Gate. He found this little spot accidentally a few days ago while on a hunt, and it’s been on his mind ever since, exuberant at the thought of you in it, at the thought of your face splitting in a wide smile and your eyes widening taking it all in. He thought of the little squeal you would make as you saw the waterfall and way you’d jump off his back immediately and make your way without thinking of your clothes, or the mask, or anything else. The scene unfolding in front of him was exactly the way he pictured it, a testament to how long you’ve been in each other’s lives, how well he knew every facet of your being, like you were just an extension of his own self, like you were a complicated poem he’s dedicated his whole life deciphering and could now recite by heart, could now dissect it and appreciate it endlessly, to its full potential. 

You didn’t look back as you just hurriedly made your way to the edge of the water, taking off pieces of clothing as you did, until you were in a lace thong and bra, that Neteyam has seen multiple times before. He could see it every day, every minute of the day, it could be tattooed on his eyeballs and it would still not stop the way his mouth instantly filled with saliva and his head felt dizzy from all the blood travelling downwards. You were the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on. Actually, beautiful did nothing to describe you. Beautiful had nothing on you. Neteyam wished he was more articulate at times like this, he wishes he would have read all the hundreds of books residing in the big library in Hell’s Gate where you loved to spend your time, in order to find the proper word to describe you. In order to validate his postulation that there was, in fact, not a single word in all of the English language, or Na’vi, for that matter, to encapsulate what you meant to him, how he viewed you. 

A splashing noise is all he heard as you jumped quietly in the water, and he followed suit, a little concerned when you wouldn’t resurface, until it dawned on him you could breathe underwater with the mask on. When you did resurface, you were standing right underneath the waterfall, the biggest smile in the world plastered on your face, and Neteyam couldn’t help his own that blossomed like how the flowers in the morning bloom did, like how his love for you did. 

Neteyam couldn’t remember his life before this. Before tangled bodies and insurmountable pleasures. He couldn’t remember who he had been, what used to occupy his mind and thoughts, what feelings, middling and insignificant, used to plague him before your being took over everything, over every second of every day, over every dream and nightmare, over the past, present and future. Neteyam knew he fucked up. Knew that he lied to you that day, when he told you he wouldn’t fall in love with you. Because he did, he fell like from a distance so far removed he could no longer see the ground. And yet, Neteyam knew the ground was there, and that gravity was pushing him towards it, and that whilst the fall was freeing and exhilarating now, while now it felt like flying, once it ended, it would crush all his bones, and his spirit, and his soul. 

“This might be the best thing you’ve ever shown me!” You were screaming loudly, trying to be heard above the booming noise of the waterfall crashing down in deafening roars, and he laughed at how enthusiastic you seemed, how wild and free. You’ve always been like that, Neteyam mused. You kept to yourself in the labs, and in the village, around the scientists and other people, around his mother and the clan - but when you were around people you loved, people you were comfortable with, you were uninhibited and unconfined to expectations, and fears and limitations, at liberty to be yourself, to shine brighter than any star in the sky. 

“What are you doing over there, Teyam? You know I don’t like to be kept waiting!” 

He shook his head, but said nothing as he removed his cummerbund and knife belt and dove in the warm water, swimming until he reached you. As soon as he did, your arms and legs encircled him like they always tended to, automatically and without thought. 

You looked in his eyes, and the glimmer in it made Neteyam’s mind freeze and go blank, made his heart thump in his chest and sweat pool on his skin, that was promptly washed away by the undulating water. 

“I want to kiss you.” Neteyam couldn’t help the words coming out of his mouth, a confession and a plea all in one, a futile one in the face of untouchable facts, such as the fact being without your mask will kill you.

You smiled and placed a soft hand on his face, tracing his lips gently, and he shuddered under the touch. “I want to kiss you, too.” 

“Thank you, Teyam. This is beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it, ma Vol. As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to bring you here. It was the only thing on my mind, the thought of you and m-“ Neteyam realised his mouth was running faster than his mind could keep up, a rare occurrence in his life, but fairly common in your presence. 

Your eyes were wide and full of surprise, and fear started creeping on your face, unannounced and unwelcome, although not completely unexpected. He shouldn’t have said that. Every time things got a little too… intimate between the two of you, any time either of you pushed the boundaries that you both established, boundaries that you needed to abide by above all, it took a while to fall back into step, to get things back to normal, to mutually forget and pretend it never happened. He didn’t want that to happen again. Things were going great for you two, and he didn’t want to lose any time with you, any time he could be loving you instead, any time he could be making you writhe underneath him, any time at all. 

“I - I just meant… you know… I -“ 

Your slender fingers found his lips again and at the small pressure you put on them, he stopped talking. Your eyes softened and your surprised expression melted into one of muted happiness, of unspoken affection, of forbidden feelings. 

“I know.” 

You spent hours swimming and giggling, splashing water at each other, enjoying how, when both submerged, the difference between you didn’t seem that extreme, the discrepancy in your bodies and your heights nothing that couldn’t be promptly overcome. You talked until your lungs were running out of breath and your voices hoarse, just catching up and discussing everything that’s been going on since you hadn’t seen each other. 

Right behind a waterfall stood a layered rock formation, which happened to allow for perfect positioning so that, when sat on it, your and Neteyam’s faces were at the same level. You smirked as you slipped your finger in the band of his loincloth and tugged at it until he took the hint and got closer to you. He didn’t have time to protest you taking off your mask recklessly and smashing your lips against his, a kiss so passionate and deep, it pushed any rational thought out of his mind and replaced it with desire and a tingling ache, one that he knew too well, one that seemed ever-present around you. 

“Vol..” he tried to speak against your lips, but you just shook your head and deepened the kiss, pushing your tongue past his lips until it met his, entangling in a suave dance until you were panting and heaving against him. He tsked annoyed at your foolhardiness, and watched patiently while you fastened to mask on yourself again and took deep, settling breaths. 

“You take my breath away… get it?” You laughed and then laughed some more at how unamused he was. “Come on, it’s funny.”

“You putting your life in danger foolishly is not funny to me.” 

You smirked and shrugged indifferently. “Well, not everyone gets my sophisticated sense of humour.” 

“God, I hate this mask.” 

Neteyam knew how much you hated it. He hated it, too. He’d give anything to be able to kiss you freely, to caress your face, to feel your lips and your soft skin, to see your eyes reflecting the colours of the nature surrounding you instead of a piece of glass doing it instead. Fortunately, Neteyam always knew how to cheer you up. 

“Vol…” he started, voice so low and soft it was almost purring. His long fingers traced your beautiful body, and each freckle adorning it, until he reached your panties, that he skilfully pulled down your thighs, until you were hanging on to them by an ankle. “Just because you can’t kiss my lips, doesn’t mean I can’t kiss yours.” 

Neteyam watched as your upper body leaned backwards until your back hit the rock wall, pushing your head back and closing your eyes in anticipation. Your hand found its way to his hair, that you grasped tightly and pushed him down, and he laughed at your already needy and disheveled demeanour. “You know, Teyam? You’re definitely the bestest friend a girl could ever ask for.” 

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

I haven't fallen yet, but I feel it comin'

Tell me would it be too much to ask, if you break it to me gently

“What?” Neteyam could hardly believe his ears, could hardly believe that the words coming out of his dad’s mouth were his current reality, and not a nightmare his mind concocted to make him ill, to keep him awake until his eyes started burning in his skull. 

“We are leaving. Tomorrow.”

Neteyam watched in pain as Tuk cried silently and immediately felt the pang of fraternal instincts kick in, urging him to pick her up and hold her close in his arms, let her cry it out in the crook of his neck. 

“But why, daddy? I don’t want to leave.” 

His dad’s stiff posture melted at his daughter’s words, that he could never resist. His eyes softened and he sighed, taking his mother’s hand in his. 

“Because we are in danger, baby girl. We now know the humans brought Avatars with them, that they brought the best soldiers back to life to hunt and kill me. And they will stop at nothing to do it, including hurting you.”

The only thought spiralling violently in Neteyam’s mind, as usual, was you. His heart was pounding aggressively in his chest, the increased heart rate making his ears hurt and his head dizzy. What did this mean? How would leave? Just the family? What about you and Spider? You were family to him, and to the rest of the Sullys. Maybe not to his mother, but even she would never want anything bad to happen to you. If you did come, would you make it in another clan? Would they ever accept two humans as one of their own? The Omatikaya barely did, and you have been part of their lives for 19 years. What if you didn’t come? He couldn’t leave you. He couldn’t lose you. What was he supposed to do? 

No. No, he couldn’t leave. He wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t leave you, he promised you, he promised himself. No matter what would ever happen in this life or the next, Neteyam knew you were the only constant he cared about, the only person he wanted to take with him and keep for the rest of time. He would tell his father no. For the first time in his life, Neteyam would tell his father no. 

“Kids, I can’t risk putting you in danger. I can’t risk putting the Omatikaya in danger once more, leading them to war. I have too much to lose.” His eyes flickered to his mother, that was sobbing silently by his side, but tried to keep it together for her family and be brave, have a strong heart. 

“We have too much to lose. If we go, we can keep them safe. The clan…” His father looked intently at his kids, eyes focused on Kiri and Neteyam. “…The humans.” 

The humans… 

Leaving would protect the humans. Leaving would protect you. 

I'm waking the next day, without you beside me

And who I hold on to today, tomorrow will just be a memory

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

You and Neteyam’s friendship had a lot of boundaries, for good measure. It was necessary when you were doing things normally reserved for couples, or mates, when you were doing things to each other that no one else would approve of, or understand. One of the rules of the game was that you wouldn’t sleep together. You used to, when you were younger, but that was when your relationship was platonic, back when things were… normal. Now, you thought sleeping together and cuddling would be too intimate, too inappropriate, and it would lead to feelings, feelings you were trying to avoid, feelings which might get in the way of the harmless fun you were having, feelings which might make everything… complicated. It was all just fun. Just fun. 

That being said, as it turns out, you were both really bad at following your own self-imposed rules, and so it didn’t take too long for you to break them all. 

Deep, satisfied pants were all that could be heard in the big recreation centre that Neteyam knew by heart by now. It was dark, his freckles the only light that reflected in your eyes, the only light you needed. 

“Well, we’re definitely getting better at that.” you said with a small chuckle. That might have been the understatement of the century, but you didn’t want to scare him by telling him that if it was up to you, you’d have him tied in this room with a chain only loose enough so that he could do this 24/7, but just tight enough so he’d never leave. 

You were laying with your head on his chest, as you always seemed to after a long and exhausting session. You loved the feel of his smooth, muscular body, that, despite your size difference, was somehow the most comfortable pillow you’ve ever slept on. 

“I’m exhausted. I feel like you and Lo’ak forget sometimes that me and Spider aren’t Na’vi, and yet you work us like we are.”

“Stop complaining, Vol. I need you to be strong and agile, ok? I need to know you’re safe and that you can take care of yourself despite this tiny frail body you possess.”

You raised an eyebrow and scoffed annoyedly, mumbling mostly to yourself. 

“Didn’t see you complain about my ‘tiny, frail body’ 20 minutes ago when you were fu-“ 

“Stop, Vol. You know what I mean. The humans are going to be back at some point, we both know that. And you spend too much time in this place, with your experiments and your books and your shows. I know you don’t like being in the village, and I know that my mother and the villagers give you a hard time sometimes, but at least when we go tracking, or hunting, or practicing, I want you there. I need to know you’re safe, ok?” 

He stopped talking, and he sighed deeply, tightening his grip on your body. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper, laced with intense emotion. 

“I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.” 

You nuzzled your face in his chest and mirrored his grip on you, smiling softly at his concern and his words, that ran shivers down your spine and fluttered butterfly wings in your stomach. 

“The worst thing that could ever happen to me is losing you, Teyam. Everything else, I will handle like the big girl I am.” 

He kissed the top of your head, and you stood like that for a while, enjoying the comfortable silence. The thought of this moment ending hurt you deeply, so much so, you couldn’t fathom it. So you decided not to. 

“Don’t go. You’re comfortable and I’m cold, and my room seems uninviting by comparison.” 

He chuckled imperceptibly. “You love your room, ma Vol. You’ve written songs about how much you love your bed.” 

“I love you, more.” 

He sighed once more, but pulled you closer and settled down for the night. “I love you most.” 

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

I would look back at all of this and wonder why I stayed in here

Just to watch you disappear

When Neteyam reached your room in the lab complex, his heart was in his throat and his knees were wobbly, and he was almost reminiscent of his Uniltaron and how the worm made him feel, like he wasn’t there anymore, not fully. Like he could see his body from outside itself, like his was mind watching everything unfold from a safe distance. His movements felt robotic and untethered, no thought outside of how was he supposed to do this? How was he supposed to leave you? How was he supposed to tell you that it’s over, that maybe you won’t lose him to another woman but you still will lose him nonetheless. Neteyam was trying to think which one was better. In a sea of two impossible choices, two unhappy endings, two roads reaching the same endpoint, which one was the lesser evil? And was there ever a third path? Was it ever possible, for you and him… a happy ending? 

He used to think so, used to hope so. Used to love the daydreams and nights picturing it, so clear and vivid in his mind, it was like it was all unfolding in front of his eyes. You, tall and blue, laughing like you always did, taking your Iknimaya. The two of you, riding from dusk til dawn, discovering secret coves and falling asleep on green moss, where he would be able to kiss you freely, where he would be able to link to your thoughts and feelings and know that this was it, his most formidable desire come alive. His family, your family, carefree and happy, full of kids' laughter and formidable first steps, full of joy and love, full of him and you. That's all he's ever wanted. A family with the woman he loved. Not the woman he was promised to, not whichever new one they'd have to find for him in the Metkayina, the woman he loved. The only one.

But now, as he was standing in this room, that he may never see again, listening to the shower that he knew you were currently in, the dream feels further away than it ever has, further each minute, until it was slowly fading from view, so dim and dwindling, until it was gone from his life, gone from his mind, forever. Until only hurt existed, only the gaping hole left behind by your absence, by all the shattered dreams and the shards of broken hearts, his own and the one he knew he'd break tonight.

The anxiety that burned every part of his body also made his tail jerk violently in every direction, and he was pulled out of his nightmare by the sound of trinkets getting thrown on the ground. 

“Shit.” 

Neteyam thought he’d have more time. Hoped that he could gather himself and his thoughts, hoped he would formulate a plan in the few minutes you would still be in the shower. He knew you would have heard it, so he knew he didn’t have that luxury anymore. He still didn’t know how he could ever make the words come out. How he could ever go through with this. 

As he kneeled on the floor to collect the broken vase that was now a fitting image of his soul, he heard the door to the bathroom open, but his eyes remained fixated on the task at hand, unable to look in your eyes, whose memory, whose incandescent beauty would haunt Neteyam for life. He tried to speak past the overbearing lump in his throat.

"Sorry. I wish I could control my tail better, but it's always an accident waiting to happen in these tight rooms."

The silence that befell the room was stifling and suffocating, and Neteyam felt the gaping hole enlarge, felt it taking over his entire chest, seeping into every ounce of his body, spreading like wildfire.

When you did speak, Neteyam almost wished you didn't. Because your voice did nothing to improve his condition, but worked as a perfect catalyst for further breakage, further pain. It was sad, and muted. It was disappointed. It was everything he never wanted your voice to be like when directed at him.

"Why are you here, Neteyam?"

"What do you mean why I am here? I can't be here?"

Neteyam spoke without thinking. He felt adrenaline taking over him, his body knowing he wouldn't be able to do this without the emboldenment given to him in this moment.

"You can, you just never are anymore."

“Vol… come on. You know it’s different now than it was in the village, in Hell’s gate. We’re going to get caught.”

“Yeah, well, we wouldn’t want to get caught. God forbid anybody knows you fuck me in your free time.” 

“Vol…”

Neteyam didn't understand why he was fighting you about something so trivial. It didn't matter. None of this mattered. None of this mattered, and yet, Neteyam felt compelled to speak his truth. No matter what form it came in.

“I know you’re upset about today. I’m sorry.”

“Why would I be upset about today? You did what you had to do. I mean, she’s going to be your mate soon, right? It’s her hands that should be healing you anyway, not mine. Those are going to scar, by the way.”

Neteyam hated to admit it, because he fancied himself a good person, a person who is respectful and caring and conscientious, but he couldn't have cared less about her if he tried. In fact, his engagement being broken might be the only silver lining in the sea of black dread. He only cared about you. In fact, the distance, and the tension, and the silence and the pain, it was too much. He needed to feel you. If this was his last day with you, he'd be damned if he spent it not feeling your body, and your warmth, not looking in your eyes.

You were so easy to manoeuvre on the bed, it would have been laughable under any other circumstances. Not tonight. When he got on top of you, and felt your bare thighs touching his, and your hand wrapped around his arm, and your eyes boring into his, he felt so much love it was overwhelming him, so sure, for the first time in his life, of that you were the only one he'd ever love, that he was irrevocably in love with you for the rest of time. So regretful of the time he could have spent loving you, and telling you, of the time he spent hiding, only to never get the chance of confessing, never get the chance to follow through on his promises.

“Stop. I know you are upset. I wish it could have been you. You know me, Vol. You know I wish it could have been you.” 

Your subtle head shaking made felt sharp bursts of pain shoot through him, like his queue was connected to an electrical socket.

“You should go, Neteyam. This isn’t right. You’re engaged to someone else. I watched her today, watched how worried she was about you, how desperate to help you, to take you away so it’s just the two of you. You’re going to mate with this girl any day now. There’s no room for me in your life anymore. Not like this, anyway.”

He sighed and got off from on top of you, no matter how loudly his mind was screaming otherwise. He wouldn't do anything you weren't comfortable with.

“The engagement is broken.” 

He wanted to stop. He could just stop and not say anything else. He could just end it there, and watch as your eyes widened in shock, then settled on a happy, relieved disposition that he saw so vividly in his mind's eye, it was almost as if was happening. He could just not go. He could stay, and love you, and make love to you, and keep you. It would be so easy. Nothing's ever been as easy as falling in love with you.

Leaving would protect the humans. Leaving would protect you. 

“Because I’m leaving. I’m leaving the Omatikaya, and so is my family.” 

Far beyond my reach is the future you promised

Now what I never even had, I have every reason to miss

"What did you just say?"

You heard him wrong. You must have heard him wrong. You wiped his tears off your face and sat up, feet dangling off the bed.

"Vol..."

"What did you say, Neteyam?"

You felt anger pick at you like you liked picking at your nails when anxiety took the better of you, and it hurt, and it burned, but anger was better than sadness, so you let it burn until you were ashes on the ground.

"My dad said we have to leave for the Metkayina clan. They're looking for him, trying to kill him. If we go, the clan will be safe. You will be safe."

"Are you kidding me right now? Please tell me it's one of those jokes like the ones Spider and Lo'ak love making that I don't get, but they find hilarious, for some reason. Please, Neteyam. Please."

You were begging, you realised. Outside of the intimacy of your bedroom and the cover of darkness, you never begged. You have never begged anyone for anything in your life. And there you were. Pathetic and weak. Begging a guy, the guy, to spare whatever was left of your heart with just a few words. All it took was a few words.

Neteyam wiped tears off his face and stood arrested in your room, arms limp by his side, like he couldn't move. Like you couldn't move.

"I'm not kidding, Vol. Trust me, I want nothing more than to be kidding. I want nothing more than for this to be a stupid, childish joke. But it's not. We are leaving tomorrow."

You were too stunned to speak, so you opted for the only other reaction your body seemed to be able to produce: laughter. You laughed. Loudly and obsessively, louder than you should have, louder than you ever have. It was so ridiculous, so ludicrous, it felt like the only appropriate reaction.

"This can't be real. This can't be happening."

Neteyam knelt by your side on the bed, and took your shoulders in his hands, urging you to look in his forlorn eyes, red and puffy, just like yours were.

“Vol, don’t you understand?! This is going to protect you. This way you get to be safe. I need to know that you are fucking safe, and if that means I go, then I go.” 

There it was again, the anger picking at your brain until it buried everything else, until it was the only thing.

“Oh, that is such bullshit! Stop acting like you would choose to stay regardless of your family’s choice, even if it kept me safe. You have never been able to choose for yourself, never done anything outside of what Jake ever said, what Neytiri said, what Mo’at said, no matter how bad a choice, no matter how much you didn’t want it. I’m supposed to believe that it would be different now why?"

“It would, Vol, because it’s you!” he shook you gently as he said that, eyes so intense, so serious - so truthful.

"So stay. Just fucking stay. Please."

“Even if I stay, I still have to mate with her, don’t you understand?”

You knew that he was right. There was no win for you. For either of you. This life was cruel, and it gave with one hand and took with both, always leaving you with less than what you started. You weren’t one to question the meaning of life or the fairness of the universe, but now, taking in the man you loved more than anything in the world, the man who you knew loved you, you wondered what was the point of it all? Why were you here? Was there really that much cruelty reserved just for you? Were you how humanity was paying for its horrible missteps on Pandora? Were you an experiment, a toy put on here just as a Voodoo doll for Eywa, and every time she pricked another needle in you, it would reflect back on Earth and on of the people banished back to it? It felt like that sometimes, and it definitively felt like that tonight.

"I can't believe this. I can't believe you."

It suddenly felt much like you exchanged moods in between you, his despondent, wretched one passed on to you and replaced with your anger, strong and unwieldy.

“God fucking damn it, Vol! Do you think I want any of this, do you think this is my choice, that this would ever be my choice?! I'm trying to protect you! I'm trying to make sure you are safe, that the clan is safe! What the hell do you want from me?!” 

He was angry and desperate, tears obvious in his eyes, as was the flush in his cheeks. Your eyes were leaking endless streams that you couldn’t push back, that you couldn’t remove from your cheeks in time before they were replenished, like they were begging to be seen and acknowledged, like the pain wouldn’t be denied - it wanted to be felt, and it didn’t care who it had to go through to do it. 

You felt emptiness envelop you like a shroud at the situation that settled in and had time to stew in your mind with each passing moment. It was over. All over. The dreaded ending, the wreck it would leave behind, it was greeting you like a warm friend, announcing its arrival. 

I'll just shut my eyes, forget that you were mine

How do you go from making one your home

And then just letting it all go

Your voice was numb and flat, quiet undulations with no emotion to give them any fluidity or any life. Your words were just a means to an end. 

“Nothing, Neteyam. I don’t want anything from you anymore.” 

You turned your back to him, unable to look at his skin on which traces of you still lingered, at his eyes in which you always saw the window to his soul, and your soul, the meaning of life and your future happiness encapsulated, his lips that traveled your body like a curious wanderer, finding Valhala in between your thighs, his hands which held your face and touched your hair, which pushed you closer to him or on him. A glance at any of these things and you would crumble, and you would shatter in a million pieces that no one knew well enough to put back together apart from him. You were a puzzle only he knew how to solve, and in his absence, you were all alone, and broken, left to mend your own cracks, knowing full well you’ll never be able to be put yourself back together quite the same way you were before. 

“Vol… please.”

“Leave, Neteyam. Just go. Just fucking go.”

Stay. Please. I love you. I’m so in love with you. Don’t leave me alone. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to lose you. Please. Please. Please. 

The sound of the door sliding closed behind Neteyam was the last thing you heard before he was out of your life, leaving everything you had behind.

So I breathe and let you go

How do I breathe and let you go?

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