#fav: i just didn’t want to be the weak one anymore.

[lovecatsys]

Sofia Mantega in New Mutants (2003)

[lovecatsys]

Thank you so much for answering!

Hi, so you may not remember this but I have a question. and forgive me if you've answered this question before. Was this meant to be Cessily, or was it Loa? Because i realized before that you've talked about wanting Cessily and Laurie to work out their issues, but I assumed that was just because Cessily was jealous of Laurie due to Kevin's feelings for her, but now that I'm looking at this, did something happen between them? If so I'm very curious what it was, also about the detail of her being immune to Laurie's powers.

That was Cessily. Her unique physiology made her immune to certain powers, Laurie's among them.

We were suggesting that Xavier's paired them due to that immunity. But Laurie was so closed off, Cessily felt neglected and mistrusted and switched rooms.

We had wanted to explore that dynamic more - explore what happened, have the Kevin situation play out, and then let the two of them (Laurie and Cessily) work it out and get past the roommate issue and the Kevin issue.

[five-and-dimes]

Sunbeam

Part 1 of 4

Using the Dreaming Bingo Adoptable prompt: Cat Ears

Rating: M

Ship: Dreamling

Warnings: Past abuse (not explicit, just implied past warprize things)

Additional Tags: Cat!Dream, Cow!Hob, King/warprize, hurt/comfort

Summary: King of the cow Kingdom, Hob is given a cat person as a warprize, and he'd give him the very sun if he could. But perhaps some sunbeams will be good enough.

Read on AO3

It takes a village to make an au like this- It all started on our fav @gabessquishytum 's blog (specifically these posts), plus a lot of inspo from discord, and Hob's design based on the amazing art of @amielot. Thanks for feeding my obsession with this au, friends! 🤘

~~~

By the time Hob makes it back to his room, finally released from a dull morning council meeting, it is nearly afternoon. And Dream is kneeling on the floor.

It’s been a little over a week since King Hob was gifted the cat person now staying in his private chambers. When Dream had been presented to him, Hob remembers feeling a mix of emotions- rage and sorrow and confusion and offense. The bovine kingdom did not trade in people. 

(Not anymore.)

He had wanted to refuse the ‘gift’ out of principle. But he had looked down at the wounded, far too thin creature in front of him and knew immediately that he could not let him go back with his captors. So he had accepted the offering with the minimal amount of politeness to not start a war. He had beckoned the cat to him, and learned that his name was Dream, and that he was too weak to make it up the stairs to Hob’s room. His body was withered and wasted, starved and neglected, even a short walk leaving him panting and shaking. Hob had waved the guards away and lifted him up into his own arms to carry him the rest of the way.

Dream had trembled against him, no matter how Hob tried to reassure him. Part of him still wonders if it was a mistake to bring the poor man into Hob’s own chambers, to lay him on his own soft bed when his fears were so obvious. But Hob could not bear the thought of leaving him alone and scared in some strange room in the palace. In truth, he wanted desperately to care for him himself. Some part of his heart had been given to the cat the moment Hob saw him, and he was determined to see him healed. 

The first night was hard, and Dream continued shivering even as he drank from Hob’s chest, falling into a fitful sleep in Hob’s bed after being tugged away guiltily to ensure he didn’t make himself sick drinking too much too fast. In the days since, Hob has left him in his room as he went about his business throughout the day, returning to check on him and feed him, and always finding him in the exact spot on the bed where he left him. Until today.

It had been raining for much of the week, but today the sun was streaming through the open windows, the light falling vibrantly across the floor in the center of the bedroom. Dream was crouched at the edge of the thick rug placed beneath the bed, reaching one long arm out to dip just the very tips of his fingers into the light, his face full of equal parts longing and trepidation. 

It is a look Hob remembers on his own face when he was a young calf, sneaking into his mother’s study and standing on the tips of his hooves to admire her golden collar and bell. He would tap it, giggling at the heavy chime, feeling mischievous as he imagined a day in the future when the beautiful adornment would be passed on to him. He also recalls getting caught, his mother admonishing him sternly yet fondly, and the way he never once felt fear of her.

He put his grimly little child’s hands all over literal gold, and he never felt anywhere near the blatant terror he sees now on Dream’s face at being caught reaching for a sunbeam.

“I apologize, my lord,” Dream scrambled frantically back onto the bed, folding his limbs to kneel and forcing his hands to release his robe, laying them in his lap meekly. It broke Hob’s heart every time, the way he so clearly wanted to hold the robe closed around his body and just as clearly expected it to be torn away from him.

He had been given to Hob naked.

The robe he wore now was meant for a calf, too short and too wide and still the best fit they could find for the cat until the tailors finished the custom robe they were working on. Dream had been near tears when he was presented with something to cover himself, bowing his head and offering anything and everything of himself in thanks. So grateful. All for a robe that didn’t even fit.

Hob approached the bed slowly, smiling gently even when he wanted to cry for the poor creature, “You’ve done nothing wrong, sweetheart.”

Dream shivered, keeping his gaze downcast, “I should not have moved without your permission, master.” 

Hob flinched at the title. As king he was accustomed to being referred to as lord and sire and majesty- it was only appropriate, and he did expect to be given the respect due his station. But he was no one’s master.

Right now though, he had to choose his battles. “You are free to move about the room, Dream,” it was true that Dream clearly needed rest, but his heart ached to think of Dream sitting stiffly wherever Hob ‘put him’. He turned and gestured at the sunlit spot, “You may even move some of the pillows or blankets from the bed, should you wish to lay in the sun.”

Dream looks horrified at the very idea, ears pinned back in fear, “I would never, sire,” his voice nearly pleading for Hob to believe him, as though he is being tested.

Hob feels his own ears droop, before straightening with resolve. He keeps his motions clear, walking to the bed to gather an armful of pillows. Dream keeps his head down, but his eyes follow Hob’s movements as he begins arranging the pillows on the floor where the sunlight is hitting. He adds a few blankets to the pile too, until he has a little nest in the middle of the room, soft and sunlit. 

Dream still hasn’t moved.

“Come here, Love,” Hob keeps his voice soft and soothing, but Dream still tenses when Hob scoops him up into his arms easily, so frighteningly light, “You must be hungry. Breakfast feels like ages ago.”

As much as Hob wishes he could sustain Dream with his milk alone, they had begun introducing some light foods- small morsels of fish, and select vegetables that the royal librarian deemed safe for cat people- into his breakfast and dinner. In between though, Hob fed him himself. Hob was used to being responsible for an entire kingdom, to making decisions that were far and long lasting and praying that he might make his country even a little bit better each day. And he was proud of his position, he would not trade it for anything. But there was something so special about being able to hold this one person in his arms and see the good he was doing. 

It still took some encouragement. As he settles into the nest, leaning back against the pillows and facing the window so that Dream can sit in his lap in the direct sunlight, Dream is still tense and trembling. Hob shushes him gently, slipping his shirt over his head before placing one hand at the back of Dream’s head to guide him to his chest. He remembers how confused Dream had been the first night when Hob had fed him, opening his mouth wide like he might for a different part of Hob’s body, unsure of what was expected of him. He had allowed himself to be maneuvered without any resistance until Hob was finally able to get a few drops of milk onto his tongue. He had watched as Dream’s eyes had widened, pupils dilating as he licked his lips in something like disbelief. 

After that it was a little easier. He is still nervous and hesitant, but Hob is able to press his mouth to his nipple and say, “Drink,” softly, more of a request than an order even if Dream does not yet recognize it as such. Hob shivers at the sensation as Dream begins to suckle, biting his lip to hold back a groan. He turns his gaze up to the ceiling, trying to distract himself from the sensation. Dream shifts in his lap and Hob has to mentally recite every trade detail he’d been given at his morning meeting in order to restrain himself from moving his hips.

The first night, Dream had looked so resigned when he finally noticed the hard prick in the lap he was sitting on. Hob had just pushed him back, not wanting him to throw up what was most likely the first substantial meal he’d had in who knows how long. He had looked so sorrowful, gazing longingly at Hob’s chest, and then he leaned back and gasped, Hob’s cock hard and hot against his hip. 

He had seemed to wilt, any relaxation Hob had coaxed from feeding him vanished, and he spoke like he was reciting a script, “How shall I repay you, master?”

Hob had felt his blood run cold at the title, “There is nothing to repay, sweet one,” he promised, his smile more of a grimace. Dream had stared at him in blatant disbelief, and as much as Hob wanted to keep holding him, he knew his body’s response was not helping the situation. So he had moved Dream off his lap, tucked him under the bed covers to sleep off his meal, and then gone and taken a long bath to take care of the problem.

It is a routine he has kept ever since. Dream no longer asks what Hob wants in return, though he still looks at him expectantly, and Hob smiles and pets him and then excuses himself to the bath to spend as much time as he needs pleasuring himself. And if he spends that time imagining the soft pads of Dream’s hands, or his sandpaper tongue, or the few glimpses he’s gotten of Dream’s enticingly barbed cock, well, no one needs to know.

Glancing back down at the cat in his arms, Hob is drawn now to Dream’s ears. His own are soft, yes, but they are also thick and sturdy. Dream’s are so thin. Even with the blackness of his fur, the sun seems to shine through at the very tips, a soft glowing pink with little veins just barely visible. Almost without thinking, Hob moves the hand on the back of Dream’s head to lightly grip one ear between his fingers.

Unsurprisingly, Dream startles, a frightened chirp escaping him as he releases Hob’s teat. 

“Shhh,” Hob soothes, nudging Dream back towards his nipple, “It’s alright, you can have some more.” He has to be careful not to let Dream make himself sick, he had been warned by the palace physician what to look out for, but they were nowhere near that point yet. Dream shyly begins suckling again, eyes glancing up at Hob through his eyelashes for approval. “Good boy,” Hob praises, and Dream’s eyes flutter shut, relaxing minutely.

In his hand, he runs his thumb across Dream’s ear. So soft, so delicate and paper thin. He feels a strange compulsion to put it in his mouth. Not to bite, like he did with his playmates growing up- Dream feels too frail for that sort of roughhousing, and Hob does not ever want to hurt him. 

No, he wants to hold his silky ear in his mouth like a delicacy, wants to lick and suck at it as gently as Dream does to his teat until the gossamer fur is wet and warm from his tongue.

For now, he settles for simply rubbing the skin between his fingers, stroking the velvet softness in a feeble attempt to distract himself from his own lust. Eventually, too soon for his or Dream’s liking but in accordance with the doctor, Hob must gently push Dream away, his chest feeling emptier and yet still too full. All he wants is to feed Dream until he is fully sated. It hurts that, for now, he cannot.

Dream has become more accustomed to the routine, and so his whimper is nearly inaudible when leans back in Hob’s lap. Hob can feel the way his ears go from lax contentment to physically pressed down, tense and flat against his head. Or trying to be, at least, in the case of the ear still in Hob’s hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Hob coos, “I know you want more, just have to wait a couple hours, Love.”

“You have been more than generous, master,” Dream replied shakily, and Hob suddenly realizes that he does not want to run away to sequester himself in the baths. 

At the moment, his body is not betraying him, at least not so much that his robes do not hide it. And so he shushes Dream again and turns him in his lap, easy as a doll, until they are both facing the window. He nestles Dream between his thighs, bracketing him between thick, warm fur and tugging him to lean back against the softness of his belly. He feels Dream’s breath hitch as he brings his free hand around to rest softly on the subtle swell of his stomach. 

“Relax,” Hob whispered, one hand on his ear while the other rubbed his stomach soothingly, helping encourage his starved body to digest the meal it’s been given, “Just relax.”

As he strokes Dream’s trembling belly and pets his ear, Hob cannot help but tilt his face into the sun. He thinks perhaps he has taken this warmth and light for granted. How many times has he awoken and scowled at the light streaming across his bed? How often has he walked past these sunbeams, stepped across the warm fibers of his extravagant rug, and not even spared them a glance? Now, feeling his body warm- feeling Dream’s body warm- in the glowing light, he feels a pang of regret that he has not appreciated this simple pleasure before.

Well, he is appreciating it now. He smiles to himself as he feels Dream slowly relax under his ministrations, body melting back against him and sinking into Hob’s abundant, pillowy flesh. Hob thinks that if he could, he would keep Dream here, surrounded by his body, soft and warm, forever. 

Maybe he can’t hold him forever, but he can hold him now. And maybe it is too soon to mouth at Dream’s silky ears and press his tongue to them like a salt lick, but he allows himself to press a fleeting kiss to the one in his hand. 

Dream doesn’t flinch. And that is more than enough for now.

[obsessive-valentine]

Hello,

what if reader tries to act nice and docile just so that childhood fae yandere lowers his guard but later tries to escape and how will he react after her failed escape..wil he be angry or amused..(Sorry English is not my first language )

Btw love ur work ❤️✨the childhood fae yandere is my fav✨

Fae Childhood-Friend x GN!Reader

How did you read my mind so well, I was actually just thinking about short one shots for each yandere with an escaped reader. Crying makes this yandere weak so he’s not as charismatic and put-together in this one lol. Also appreciate the compliment and your English is great! ❤️

This particular night while you lay awake beside him you’d worked yourself up and felt particularly brave. But not anymore, not now you’ve been running through the dark woods for what felt like an hour. The trees are thorny and stretch on forever with their leaves successfully covering the whole sky, not even moonlight could peer between the leaves to light the way slightly. You could have sworn your eyes closed if it weren’t for the firefly like bugs floating around and shimmering pools of water here and there.

Scrapes frequently clawed into your skin from prickly branches leaving a sting, at some point you began wondering if the branches were twisting and bending to reach you and claw at you more. And if the roots and needles were trying to grasp around your bare feet- leaving you to stumble rather than run... maybe you should have stayed in bed.

...

He hadn’t fallen asleep fully, he closed his eyes resting and waiting for your return, after you tiptoed out of the bed room presumably for a drink or to use the toilet. After a while he begrudgingly sat up and called with a slight of annoyance in his tone he called your name. The lack of reply made him get out of bed and search for you to drag you back to bed. His whole face darkened knowing you weren’t in the house at all, he gritted his teeth and rushed for the front door.

“Fucking idiot” he wasn’t sure if he was saying that about himself or you. He didn’t bother grab a coat or shoes and opened to run out the door into the cold winter with just his thin night shirt and trousers on. He knew exactly where to look.

...

You didn’t get far until the angry roots and branches began to bend and creak to scrape you, the forest was coming to life and became darker and horrifying the more you ran. At some point you ended up on the forest floor crying, exhausted and terrified. The forest made awful noises and you could see the sky though the thick canopy of leaves, you wasn’t sure if it was bugs or the cold pinching and biting at your exposed skin but it hurt all the same.

Everything ached and all hope of finding that portal was long gone. “Darling?” You heard a exasperated voice, and rushed feet, during his trek through the forest he was angry thinking about the paragraphs of lectures he’ll shout at you, that was until he saw you sitting defeated and broken on the forest floor “my sweet idiot, it isn’t safe out here for your kind” a pitiful tone but oddly full of love, you looked up to see him, all his anger melted away and he just wanted to protect you.

He knelt down in front of you and almost flinched from how cold you’d gotten when he went to wipe away tears and dirt from your face. His face reminded you of when you were both kids, how he desperately would try to stop your crying and distract you from the sting of the scrapes on you knees after you’d fell, but this forest was anything but the idillic nature you both played in. “Your okay now. I’m here” he hushed and brought you into a embrace as he caught his breath.

You hadn’t realised you began to cry again until you heard yourself sob out “I just wanted to go home” his embrace tightened at the thought of you leaving him. He whispered you name in your ear before instructing you “Calm your breathing” and you did, you understood the power he held over you, his ability to put you in a trance like state. And unlike the first time he used it to kidnap you, you are great full -you want suffocating on your breath anymore and sunk comfortably into his arms.

“This is your home now love, it just hasn’t grown on you yet ~but you’re mine you always have been, I can’t let you leave again” he murmured into your hair as he lifted you from the ground, you didn’t have the energy to argue with his words. The walk back was quiet, the woods behaved for him -nothing reached out to scratch or bite at you now, no beady eyes followed you and the forest top now let the moonlight shimmer through.

He carried you out the trees, through the gates, into the garden and then into the house much like the first time you arrived.

...

You expected a scolding and if he was honest he expected to be much more angry with you, that you would put yourself in such danger just to get away from him. Instead here you sat, on the counter in the bathroom in front of him as he (as carefully as he could) disinfected your scrapes -after a rather painful shower with the water dancing on your wounds, like it was making fun of your failed escape.

He only spoke a few words- just reassurances, at a loss of what to say, not wanting to upset you more. Instead he let his actions speak. He detangled your hair gently and helped you into pyjamas. He wasn’t even a bit angry but rather disappointed in himself, you looked so fragile and exhausted and it’s all his fault and insensitivity.

For a man with usually so much to say he truly didn’t know how to comfort his beloved, you looked exhausted so he brought you to bed but before he dragged the blankets over your body for the second time that night, he had to be sure he could sleep without being worried you’d run again.“Love, listen to me” he grabs your face gently “I know it’s a lot and I understand why you did it -but you can’t go outside alone, it’s dangerous and I’m not just saying that for my own benefit. Promise me, love” you tiredly nodded, you wouldn’t go back into those woods again it doesn’t play fair. Nothing about this realm is fair.

He nodded appreciatively, believing you. “we’ll talk more in the morning” he blew out the dim candle on the nightstand and lay down with you, with one less worry about his dear human.

You let him drag you into his chest and found comfort in it, so much so you fell asleep. He didn’t usually hold you like this, fae aren’t really touchy creatures and make for peculiar lovers. He’s a much better lover than most fae due to his history with you, being acclimated to your human emotions through the years growing together, but he still had some improving to do.

He’d been expecting and even cocky at times -telling himself you’ll come around, that you have to because he’s all you have, forgetting that you’re still just a human with different definitions of love. But not from now on “I’ll make you fall in love with me, I’ll make you feel more loved than any human could and you’ll never want to go back. I want to make you happy like i used to”

He takes this as a challenge, prove to you that you’re the only one for him and he for you. Because he is, you just haven’t realised yet.

[whxre-bxby]

ur def my fav recom writer🥲🥲🥲, no one writes the way u write and ur anons leave the best ideas😫😫😫🤭🤭🤭

Thank you! I'll try to keep it up :)

Recom Mansk x Recom f. Y/N

"A Different Kind Of Warmth"

Masterlist

Summary: Mansk and Y/N survive the final battle on the sinking ship and escape. Both are lost in the forest and as night falls, the cold reaches their skin. To warm up, they huddle for warmth but Mansk has a hard time containing his rising feelings.

WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, death, near-death experience, fluff, breeding kink, penetration, soft/sub Mansk

Word Count: 9426

When I woke up as a recom, I had hope for life. The new body, new attitude and new mission had me thinking we had a chance to win this time. Boy, was I wrong.

The S-79 SeaDragon was going down, slowly becoming submerged by water. The water I was struggling in. I was on the lower deck along with the Colonel and a few other soldiers when all hell broke loose. The recom team was being taken down one by one and soon enough everyone was fending for themselves. I had been knocked into the water by falling heavy equipment and was now holding onto the railing on the side of the huge ship. It was tilted and sinking and I knew it wouldn’t keep me above the surface for long.

I didn’t know where to go or what to do. Climbing back up on deck and looking for Sully was suicide. Drowning sounded better to me than getting an axe to the head or an arrow in my side. 

I didn’t plan on swimming for much longer. Everyone was dead and I didn’t know how to get back to Bridgehead. The feeling of being alone started to drown me more than the water and my heart ached as I tried making a list in my head of who could still be alive. I just saw 3 of us die. Meaning that maybe Lyle was alive. I don’t know where Quaritch is and I haven’t seen Mansk. I know Z-Dog is down, along with Prager. Lopez and Ja died a few hours earlier. 

The rail I was holding was now fully submerged in the ocean’s water and I was standing on it until I couldn’t feel it beneath me anymore. My legs and arms were sore from swimming and I felt myself growing weaker. I was turning around, looking for any available platform I could cling to or land but everything was either sinking or too far away. The SeaDragon was slowly tipping over and its side was coming down over me. I was ready to let the deck just drown me and pull me down but suddenly a huge splash erupted next to me. I gasp, turning around to see what it was and then I recognised an Avatar’s head breaking through the surface and gasping for air. It was Mansk and his wide eyes met my own. 

I sigh in relief, letting my eyes flutter closed for a few seconds as I realise I’m not about to be killed by a Na’vi. 

“Y/N?” he asked breathlessly, fighting to keep his head above water. I frantically nod, swimming over to him a bit. 

“Yeah.” I gasp, coughing some water out of my lungs. He nods, seeming relieved by my presence. At least we weren’t alone. 

“Did you see anyone else?” I ask, searching around us again. Mansk weakly shakes his head ‘no’ and I sigh. He turned around, not seeming as lost as me.

I feel glad that he seemed to have a plan. I was going to just swim in the same spot until I drown but now I had a reason to stay alive. 

He leads the way, swimming away from the ship and I follow, feeling too weak to question where we are going. Or where he was going. I didn’t want to stay behind. 

Mansk seemed to have more strength than me. I had been swimming for almost half an hour so I was struggling to keep up. 

He was faster and I was slightly panicking internally, hoping he wouldn’t leave me behind.

Mansk and I were mutual friends I guess. We knew we were on the same side and that we could rely on each other but I never had a proper conversation with him. He was very distant around people. 

He turned around in the water, noticing you weren’t as close behind as he hoped. His movements in the water stopped proceeding forward as he watched you swim to him, noticing your movements and stamina falter. Mansk’s heart was racing and adrenaline was rushing through his veins from the battle. In the back of his mind, he wondered whether anyone else was alive. Either way, he had you now and he couldn’t let anything happen to either of you. Clearly, you had been struggling for longer than him so he needed to help you get to land. 

Mansk’s arm reached out for mine, pulling me to him and my eyes opened at the contact. Since I last saw him so far from me, my heart dropped at the feeling of being touched and I dreaded it to be something from the ocean. Luckily it was Mansk and he scanned over me with a worried expression. 

I tasted blood in my mouth and felt it coming from my nose. 

I hold on to his vest, coughing again after nearly choking on more salty water. My tired eyes were closing and my legs were no longer able to push me as far as before. 

“Almost there.” he said, stretching his left arm under my arms to keep me stable. 

His voice took me by surprise. He had spoken a few times but I still couldn’t remember what he sounded like because it was so rare. Mansk spoke in a deep tone, sounding hoarse from the fight. 

I nod while gasping for air and he realises he’s running out of time with me. His ears strain back against his head and he tightens his grip around me to not lose me. 

Mansk starts swimming again, pulling me with him while my legs and arms try to boost me forwards and up weakly. 

All my muscles hurt and I couldn’t properly swim anymore. 

Mansk clenched his jaw, not tearing his eyes away from the targeted land he had found. He was going to get you both there alive. His arms started slicing through the water as he pulled you behind him by your vest. He wasn’t going to leave you, he was going to make it there so he used all the strength he had in him to do so. 

I felt like I was going to pass out and suddenly, the arm pulling me through the water let go of me. My body stilled and I soon realised I was sinking down. The noise of the loud crashing waves stilled as water filled my ears and everything went quiet. No more splashing or creaking from the sinking boat. Just a faint ringing in my ears and my heartbeat which I felt pounding in my ears and in the back of my head. I faintly open my eyes, staring up at the water's surface, noticing the small bubbles from my nose push upwards in a squiggly line. It seems so close yet so agonisingly difficult to reach. As if it were teasing my bodies strength, in a cruel test of agility and strength. 

The weighty resistance on my chest prevented me from gasping for air and as I slowly sunk, I felt myself be distanced from life more and more. The life I didn’t actually ask for but the one I was ordered to have. A life in an artificial body of the species I was hunting to kill. 

My already weakened limbs seem to be moving in slow motion as I search for something to hold on to and pull me up, but I’m surrounded by endless amounts of heavy and dark water, threatening to force its way into my body and fill me up until I become one with the ocean. The passing seconds of time seem to strain and stretch into eternity as my need for air makes me dizzy. Once again I felt alone and abandoned. My memories were blurred together and I wasn’t even sure whether I had seen Mansk at all. Perhaps I had been drowning this entire time and was only imagining being saved by him while I drifted in and out of consciousness. Maybe everyone really was dead and I was now the last one to go. 

My chest felt as though it was going to burst and the natural instinct to breathe overpowered my reasonability and I desperately attempted to inhale and draw in air when it was clear there was none. The liquid seeped into my lungs making me feel heavier as I sunk and moved with the waves. The uncomfortable feeling made terror shoot through my weak body as I started to realise that my time was running out. Thinking of death when one is safe doesn’t seem threatening but now I was maybe just minutes away from everything I had ever experienced coming to an end. It was fastly approaching and helplessness spurred me on to struggle and swim to the surface. 

My vision blurs like my thoughts and I notice my state of panic vanish. The light around me fades along with the chaos as I float in an eery haze of calmness and stillness.

Suddenly, my heart seems to reboot out of shock. I hear a muffled yet crashing noise above me and light rays shine down on my luminescent blue skin as the surface of the water breaks. Bubbles break out in the targeted area, hiding the object causing the surface to ripple. Then, a hand pushes through the surface and grabs onto my vest, making me realise I wasn’t that deep in the water. My mouth opens from the habit to gasp and the last remaining large bubbles of oxygen leave my lips. The arm pulls my still body up and within seconds I feel much heavier again. Water is no longer engulfing me and my movements are not as restricted. My legs and arms scrape against a hard rock when suddenly I feel steady ground beneath me. 

Mansk had reached the shore and climbed it so that he could pull me on it after him. He had reached the top of the flat rock and turned around to help me up when he noticed I was no longer there. Panic washed over him as his wide eyes hastily searched the water for my body and he spotted it beneath the waves. Without hesitation, Mansk leaned forwards and hurriedly fished for one of my limbs to be able to help me up. Relief calmed him when he gripped onto me and his arms tugged me away from the edge of the water and next to him on the ground.

I hurled myself forward, quickly scanning my surroundings and faintly realising I was on land and with Mansk. Laying on my belly while my back arched uncomfortably, I desperately coughed up all the heavy water I had taken in. My lungs hurt and my body ached while I propped myself up on my elbows and gasped for air between coughs and chokes. Mansk leaned forwards, also breathing heavily and laid his hand on my back while I struggled to breathe again.

My hands were pressed flat against the wet rock as I regained my senses, trying to calm my breathing. I allowed myself to close my eyes from exhaustion for a few seconds before looking at Mansk. 

“Mansk-” I whimper with red eyes and a trembling voice. 

He saw the fear in my eyes and instantly felt responsible and blameworthy for the situation I was just in. What was just a few seconds or a minute to him seemed like ages to my previously submerged self. 

But I was just grateful to be alive with him. I wanted to somehow express my feelings of appreciation for his help even though it was the bare minimum but my mind was still a mess. Maybe give him a hug or tell him a few heartfelt words but I knew that all that would barely scratch the surface of the depth of my feelings. I had too many emotions surging through me. 

“You okay?” he asked, knowing I could obviously be better. He just wanted to make sure I wasn’t too traumatised or maybe I had a wound he didn’t know about. 

It takes me a few seconds to answer because I just recently wanted to cry for help. In contrast, now I nodded my head slowly. 

“Yeah. Are you?” I ask, stumbling forwards on my knees slightly and leaning against him. 

He catches me by my shoulders and props me up straight while I feel around his torso for wounds. 

The desperation of my actions warms his heart when he realises there could be a chance of me truly caring about him.

“Yeah.” he replies, his voice scruffy. I scan over him to make sure and then nod, leaning back on my feet. Neither of us was okay. We were far from it. But we weren’t dying anymore. And as marines and in the military, you are okay as long as you’re alive and not being held at gunpoint. 

The weight of the situation started to sink in as I turned around on the rock and faced the almost fully sunken ship. Mansk watched it too and it made us both feel uneasy. Our friends that we’ve known for years were on there. Their dead bodies were probably sinking in the water while he sat up here and watched. Almost instantly I felt guilty. There must have been a way I could have helped them but I didn’t and now there was nothing I could do. 

I press down on the call in my throat. “Does anyone copy?” I ask, hoping one of our team members will reply. Mansk presses his own and listens in but the line is dead. No one replies and my heart sinks to my stomach. 

Without me noticing my breaths grew heavy and unsteady again and my nose twitched, providing me with the sign that tears were forming in my eyes. 

Mansk sat a little behind me, letting the harsh reality sink in while I refused to accept it and still searched to see if anyone was swimming or moving. But there was nothing. The action was gone and suddenly, the world felt dystopian and scary. 

Both of us were drenched, sitting in the puddles of water that drained and trickled from our clothes and attire. 

We sit in silence for a while. Both of our minds are too full of thoughts and feelings we need time to reorganise them and come back to our senses. 

I come to the conclusion that we can’t stay here but I also realise we have no way of getting back. The communication pieces on our necks and in our ears were damaged and even if our Ikrans found us we wouldn’t know the way back to Bridghead. 

I slowly turn around to Mansk. He looks like he’s going to be sick. Being abandoned and alone on a foreign planet surrounded by dangerous and unknown creatures is not something the military can prepare a soldier for. We also knew that every Na’vi we encountered from now on would not hesitate to kill us for the destruction and devastation we caused. I didn’t even blame them for it. 

The scene of the sinking SeaDragon showed me how disastrous and fatal our actions were. To me, the fallen soldiers and warriors from both sides are a haunting sight. I can spot a few bodies motionlessly floating in the water or stretched along the wreckage. The cost of war on this planet didn’t seem worth it. From that battle of hell, Mansk and I had survived. But we were not victorious. What I was looking at was not victory. We were defeated survivors, left to fend for ourselves in a world that resented us. 

“What do we do now?” I ask, wondering whether he might have a plan to get us out of here. Mansk’s eyes were unfocused, emotionlessly staring at the wreck in the ocean but my voice drew him from his thoughts and back to reality. He stared at me, opening his mouth in an attempt to say something before closing it again. 

He didn’t know. Both of us were helpless. But what was clear was that we couldn’t stay here, drenched in clothes that symbolised our side of the war. 

The eclipse was almost over and the sky grew darker. 

“Come.” he said and I watched him get up before forcing myself off the ground with the remaining strength I had. Yep, he wasn’t much of a talker.

But I could trust him and I knew he was thinking like me. We needed shelter to survive the night and freezing on a wet rock is not the way to do it. So we headed to the forest. This was common sense, especially for Marines. 

Mansk walked slightly ahead of me while I limped after him. Our guns were useless and gone so we were left with only our daggers. I had a knife and Mansk had one of Lyle’s machetes. 

We left the coast behind, warily walking into the deadly forest which still haunted us from experiences in both our lives. 

The light of day had now vanished, and the trees further dimmed our surroundings. But our new bodies enabled us to see clearly in the dark. 

I was moving forward with a hand on my hip in pain while my head was dropped and my eyes weak. It was only then that I started to notice the grass become luminous beneath my feet. 

My ears perked forwards and I looked around, noticing the colour and the light of the forests of Pandora at night. The beauty of it entranced me, making me forget the hate we were told we should have for this world. Despite its dangers, the forest was magical and it lured us deeper in. Oddly, I felt connected to it in some way. Forgetting the harm I had just caused, I felt drawn to the trees. Perhaps my body was trying to persuade my mind to switch sides again. It happened before. This blue Avatar wanted me to naturalise here but my willpower was stronger. 

My eyes shoot up and I scan over Mansk. He seems inattentive to the surrounding lights and colours. Sometimes, I feel like he sees the world in black and white because he never sympathises with things. No matter what beautiful sight of Pandora you would show him, Mansk would not fall into its trap. Not that he was fighting his will, he just genuinely disliked this planet. 

Mansk was walking at my speed so that I wouldn’t fall behind and his arms smoothly swung as he held the machete. He had used it to cut the path free from plants but now the large leaves had vanished. I noticed how tense he looked. His ears were tipped back but his tail was still. He lost his shades because they weren’t on his head as usual. My eyes drifted over him while I completely spaced out from reality. The long-sleeved uniform he wore suited him. It would be unlike Mansk to walk around in a tank top or something similar to Quaritch’s attire. I never understood why but I didn’t question it. At least he wasn’t as oddly self-obsessed as many others. His vest emphasized his broad torso which evidently slimmed down at his waist and the cloth around his arms strained a little through the muscle. Mansk was lean and I found myself admiring him which I had done once or twice before. It embarrassed me to think of him like this because I wanted to be professional but then I would remind myself that our team really wasn’t professional. Sure, around people ranking higher than us yes. The Colonel too, but between us many acted like teenagers. Not just Lyle.

My eyes mindlessly continue to stare at him and he seems to feel them, turning around and glancing at me. Our eyes lock and suddenly I don’t know what to do so I quickly avert my gaze back to the ground before letting it flicker to the many plants. He keeps his eyes on me for a few more seconds, examining me himself before turning back to the front. My heartbeat picked up its pace even though he showed me no emotion and my thoughts were scattered. That’s why I was once again not paying attention and I bumped into him as he stopped. 

Mansk glanced over his shoulder and his ears perked as he watched you recover from thumping into him before looking away again. He smiled to himself. Not a big smile, just the corners of his mouth lifted in slight amusement and his tail flicked. But he wouldn’t let you see, so he quickly hid his emotions with his neutral and unbothered expression.

I rubbed my forehead and my ears drooped in embarrassment. Mansk hadn’t even been nudged forward through my actions, it felt like hitting a brick wall. 

“How ‘bout there?” he asked and instantly my attention devoted itself to him and his voice. My ears twitch forward and I step out from behind him to let my eyes follow where he is looking. It’s a larger tree and it looked dead. Perhaps it had been hit by lightning at some point but what was attractive to us was the fact that it had fallen over halfway onto another tree creating a type of shelter. I looked around, noticing there was a grass patch surrounding it and we could stand beneath the fallen trunk in the case of rain. 

While you’re scanning the place, Mansk’s eyes are fixed on you. His ears finally let loose from being flattened back and move forward slightly as he eyes your facial features, taking note of your luminescent patterns, your nervously twitching ears and nose. His stern gaze softens for the first time in a few hours. You had been walking for a while and he only let his mask of steel falter and slip up when you were battling the water. 

The way your eyes sparkled in the lights of the night had him unable to take his eyes off of you for a few extra seconds. 

I turned to look up at him and he almost flinched away. His ears immediately pinned back and his tail froze. His retreating actions startled me and I waited a few seconds before answering. 

“Let’s check it out.” I say softly, choosing to lead the way for a change. 

Mansk watches me start to walk to the tree. He lets his hands rest on his waist as he drops and shakes his head lightly before following me. 

He should feel endangered and worried but somehow you’re presence distracted him from the horrors you both had just witnessed and you were all he could think about.

I walk beneath the tree, running my hand over the dried-up bark. It was stable and the ground felt soft to my bare feet. 

Mansk reaches me, turning around and scanning over the place. I stand still for a few moments in thought before a shiver runs over me and I notice I’m hugging myself for warmth. 

We were still wearing our drenched clothes and they were keeping our skin moist and cold and had our clothes stick to it. 

Mansk turns around to me and I nod a few times in approval of the place before starting to unstrap my vest. The water made it feel heavier.

He felt cold too and noticed what I was doing so he followed. A strap was stuck because the plastic was busted so I cut a part of it open, discarding the useless material on the ground. My tank top followed, which I had to peel from my skin because it was still soaked. I pulled it over my head and started wrenching and twisting the water out of the cloth and onto the ground. 

Mansk slightly turned away from me and was doing the same with his coat.

My legs were freezing so I started opening my belt. I then moved against the side of the tree and sat down so I could strip the cold pants off. I sighed, rubbing my forehead again out of exhaustion before throwing them onto my pile of clothes. 

I sat cross-legged on the grass in my underwear. Luckily it wasn’t too revealing. The sports bra could count as a top and my underwear was the length of tight shorts. 

Mansk had taken his top clothes off, holding them in his hand and he kept his cammies on. He turned to you and noticed your bare skin but he turned his head away not wanting you to feel uncomfortable. He also wanted to stay focused on somehow getting back to Bridgehead and looking at you would not help him concentrate. 

He sat down next to me but kept his distance. Mansk seemed unsure of the situation. He’d never been in this position before. 

I glanced at him, also quickly tearing my eyes away in case he would notice me staring again. My hands were around my braid which carried water in the hair and I was trying to squeeze it out. 

We sat in comfortable silence and I winced, letting out a squeak of pain when I twisted my queue too harshly. 

Mansk’s eyes flickered to me at the noise and he watched what I was doing. We were still getting used to the body and I’ve never had to drain water from my Kuru cord yet. 

The RDA told us we didn’t have to shower because Na’vi don’t sweat the same way humans do. 

I look at him and this time he doesn’t cower away. Mansk kept his pants on and his cord wet. The perfect way of getting sick. The water from his queue was drizzling down his bare torso. 

I start opening my braid, carefully untangling the hair so that I could squeeze the water out of it without hurting myself. Mansk is still subtly watching me. 

“You should do it too. Otherwise, it’ll hurt you tomorrow.” I say, glancing back at him. Mansk ears perk forward at my words and he stays still for a few moments before looking at the braid resting over his shoulder. Using words to answer was rarely deemed necessary for him. 

He slowly mirrors my movements and unsurely removes the hair tie before opening the braid. Our hair was thick and I knew it felt odd for him because he was used to having his hair buzzed short his entire life. His hands clumsily untangle the Kuru from our hair and I can tell it’s the first time he’s doing something like this. Mansk looks over at me to see how I’m drying mine, his lost and confused eyes trying to find answers. 

I smile to myself, only opening it halfway because the water had seeped to the lower strands of hair and was dry on my scalp. 

Once I was done, I leaned back against the bark, slumping my shoulders while re-braiding my hair around my queue. It took me a while to figure out how to keep it in the centre of the strands but eventually, it worked. When I finished I glanced over at Mansk who had almost opened his entire braid and had his fingers tangled in hair. 

He was helpless. 

“You need help?” I ask, biting my lip to suppress giggles. He glances at me in defeat and looks embarrassed that he can’t get it back together. 

“Yeah.” He softly replies, removing his hands from his hair. I walk over to him on my knees and sit behind him. 

“I don’t know how to braid.” He mumbles, sitting with his knees bent and torso leaned forward. 

I run my fingers through the hair to straighten them out before separating them into three strands. 

“I can teach you if you’d like.” I say, tilting my head to the side to look at him in case he decides to turn around and glance at me but Mansk stays still. 

“Nah, it’s fine.” he replies, his voice quiet but still gravelly. My ears droop as my hope dies down. He should learn how to do it because he’ll be stuck with his queue until he dies. But I’m not going to push him. 

My fingers start braiding away, gently holding his cord in place as I try my best to cover it with hair from all sides. Whenever I brush my fingers against the Kuru, I glance at him to make sure he’s all right and he is. Mansk looks unfazed to me.

You couldn’t see over his back. Mansk had his fists tightly closed and his body was tense. You two had never been so close before. He hadn’t been like this with anyone and he never planned on it but with the situation you two were in, Mansk had to push himself a little. He would never let anyone braid his hair. The idea seemed stupid and pathetic to him but weirdly, he trusted you enough to do it right and not mock him for not knowing how to. But you touching him like that had its downsides. Mansk forced himself to suppress shivers every time your fingers held his queue or grazed his back. He was nervous and the feeling felt almost threatening to him because Mansk never felt that way. 

Another cold shiver ran through my body and I tried curling myself up into a ball while finishing his braid. My tail was wrapped around my waist and my fingers were trembling. 

Mansk must have felt it and he looked over his shoulder. 

“Sorry,” I say, trying to suppress the frigid chills washing over me. “ It’s cold as fuck.” I add with a breathy laugh, trying to lighten the mood. 

I knew he was quiet but I never had to deal with it one on one because we were always with the team. His silence had my thoughts running wild and I had to fight myself to not keep trying to fill it. 

Mansk gives me the faintest nod and faces forwards again and I want to face-palm myself. For a few seconds, I wondered whether that was all the reply I would get from him. 

“Are your clothes dry?” he then asks and my drooped ears twitch forwards and my eyes brighten. 

“No. Still wet.” I say, looking over at my pile before returning my focus to his hair and tying the end with the hair tie. 

“Here, it’s done.” My hands lift his braid and I place it over his shoulder so that he can see. 

Mansk examines it with interested eyes. “Thanks.” He quietly replies and I nod, sitting back down against the tree. This time I was slightly close to him. 

I pull in my legs, hugging my knees and curling my trembling tail around me before resting my chin on my legs. Perhaps we could make a fire but I was too exhausted to go and look for firewood and attempt to start it. I knew Mansk was too. 

Mansk leaned back against the bark now too and the corners of his eyes caught the movement of your shivering frame, directing his attention back to you. Not that it ever left. Mansk wished he could give you his coat if it were dry but it wasn’t. He’d also much rather be wearing more himself. 

I was brought back to the dreadful images of the shipwreck as the silence faded the reality around me. While my arms clutched my legs tightly I slowly rocked back and forth to try and keep me a little warmer. It also helped me calm down. My eyes were unfocused and I was staring in front of me with wide and blank eyes. I was so absentminded that I hadn’t noticed Mansk’s movements. 

I felt something on my back and flinched in shock. Mansk quickly drew back his hand and looked at my confused expression. 

I sighed and dropped my head down, feeling relieved that I was here and not in the water. 

He had moved closer to me and we were seated right next to one another now. I tried calming my breathing again when Mansk repeatedly gently placed his hand on my back. He could tell I was having a hard time digesting what happened today so I guess this was his way of comforting me. I didn’t mind it. In fact, I pushed into the feeling of the palm of his hand. It was warm against my skin and I felt him radiate body heat against me. 

I look up at him and give him a soft smile and he returns it for once before looking down at his legs. 

His hand really did comfort me and I was forcing myself to stay seated upright and not just fall into him. 

My eyes were fluttering closed because I felt tired but I couldn’t get anywhere near sleeping when I was this cold. They shot open when Mansk’s shivered and I felt his hand twitch. There was no doubt about it. We were both cold. 

My head once again lifts and I look at him and his posture, wondering whether I can just lean into him. He lifts his head from having it leaned back against the tree and our eyes meet.

“Is it okay if I lean against you?” I ask with half-lidded eyes. I felt tired and I didn’t mind asking anymore. If he says no I’ll just tip to the other side and try to sleep.

Mansk seemed surprised by my words but I had a feeling he was thinking of the same thing. It was chilly and we could stay warm if we shared our body heat. I couldn’t feel my warmth but he could and vice versa. 

His perked ears of interest now leaned back as he attempted to answer.

“Uh-” Mansk swallowed nervously as I stared up at him.  “Yeah, sure.” He said, internally cursing himself for stuttering. 

I smile and scoot a little closer. Mansk lifts his arm up as I move under it and then I just lean my upper body into his, lying against his side. My body relaxes with the feeling of his warmth and I hum in appreciation. 

He stays still for a few seconds, not daring to even breathe. Then he slowly lowers his arm and unsurely rests it around my shoulder. 

My head is resting against the side of his chest and I discover how comfortable Mansk feels. 

I push my legs a little closer to his frame all while he watches from above and my arm loosely drapes around his middle. 

Yep, that’ll do. If we’re still stuck here tomorrow night then Mansk will become my regular bed. 

He slowly eases himself against me, trying to relax his tense body. The skin-to-skin contact was something he hadn’t felt in ages and it was electrifying to him. Mansk would never give nor receive physical affection. The most he would do with his friends were handshakes and knuckle bumps or a pat on the back. He hadn’t given anyone a hug in years so to receive something like this had his heartbeat racing and Mansk prayed you wouldn’t feel it. 

The tip of his tail was wagging and lightly thumping against the ground so Mansk rested his free hand on it to stop the movements. He didn’t want you to know about what a nervous wreck he had become since you both sat down.

My eyes were growing heavy but then I noticed something new. Mansk’s scent or more like his musk seemed to grow stronger. I wondered whether I was inhaling too deeply but I wasn’t. My eyes close again as I decide to brush it off. My head nudges his side as I move it to my comfort and now my ear is flatly pressed against his skin. Within seconds I can hear thumping and it doesn’t take me long to realise it’s his heartbeat and it’s fast.

I’m wide awake again, wondering about what was happening to him. Maybe he was afraid and was remembering the sinking ship, or he was in a painful position but didn’t want to wake me? Perhaps he felt sick. 

I slowly lift myself up, rubbing an eye before looking up at him. 

Mansk’s ears are drooped to the side and his eyes are wide as he watches your movements, dreading to hear you ask him why he’s so tense. When you look up at him his heart stops beating in fear and he freezes. 

“Are you okay?” I ask but he refuses to meet my eyes or answer. 

My head drops forward and I rub my other eye while thinking about what to do because he was silent.

“If it’s uncomfortable then I can move back and you- can…” I say, opening my eyes before I stop mid-sentence. While rubbing the sleep from them, my head was coincidentally pointed to his abdomen and as I opened my eyes, they were met with the least expected sight. 

I shut up and my lips are slightly parted in surprise as I just stare down at his pants with wide eyes. His cammies are strained in his crotch area and I can see that Mansk has an erection. 

To his horror, he can see that you’ve noticed what he’s been trying to hide and suppress. Everything seemed to be coming crashing down on him and he wished he could sink into the ground in shame. 

You two worked together, he didn’t want you to think of him as some pervert. He also really didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

While Mansk was cursing and hating himself I just kept staring. It took me longer than it should have to figure out that he got so worked up because of how close I was to him. 

“You could have just told me, you know?” I say, grinning up at him and Mansk is torn out of his destructive thoughts by the sound of my voice. 

Once again he is speechless. He was expecting to be insulted or scolded by you. Not that he could picture you doing that, he oddly couldn’t. But a positive reaction wasn’t even on his radar of possible outcomes. 

I fully turn around to face him. He’s staring at me with wide eyes while I drink in his flushed face of embarrassment and bare torso.

“You need some help with that?” I ask, tilting my head in a playful way so that he would get the memo. 

He was starstruck in utter disbelief. 

“What?” he asked, his voice sounding even more hoarse but this time it trembled.  He was too stunned to regret sounding nervous. 

“I need to know. Yes or no? I don’t want to cross your boundaries but I can help you out.” I say, wanting to make it clear that I’m fine with this. 

He can’t answer, his voice seems unreachable to him. 

I decide to rid him of any doubtful questions in his head so I lean forward and trace the tattoo on his chest, making him shiver. 

“Mansk. Do you want me?” I say, keeping my teasing grin. Who would have known that a big and serious man like him could fall apart so easily? 

His mouth is lightly hanging open and he doesn’t even think his answer through because he feels too drawn to you and the moment you two are having. Mansk slightly nods his head even though a voice in the back of his head still has him secretly fearing you would suddenly walk away. 

“Use your words.” I whisper, leaning in a little closer and he couldn’t care less about being told what to do. 

“I want you.” he answers in a raspy voice and I notice how dilated with lust his pupils have become. 

Mansk never takes orders from anyone but his superiors. Meaning he’d follow Quaritch and often Lyle, but rarely would he listen to others. Not because he was rude but because he didn’t like being told what to do by people who weren’t qualified to give orders. 

My sneaky smile turns into a grin again and I shift forwards, moving my legs over his own so that I was straddling his lap. Mansk moved his arms out of the way, still watching me in disbelief. To further enlighten his burdening thoughts, I reach to his neck and gently tug at his dog tag while moving my face close to his. 

I watch him and his eyes keep flickering between mine before they fixate on my lips. Our warm breaths are fanning against the other and our noses brush. I want him to initiate the kiss to make sure I’m not taking advantage of his desperate state. My free hand rests on his chest, stroking over his pec and feeling up his bare skin. 

Mansk can’t take it anymore and he fills the gap between both your lips by leaning forward and catching your mouth with his. 

My heart seems to skip a beat in excitement and I immediately kiss him back, melting against his touch. My hands are all over his torso and soon I notice how he keeps his at his sides. 

He was relishing in the feeling of having you so close to him. A big part of him needed this for a long time. Now the void in him was finally being filled and Mansk was afraid of doing something wrong so he didn’t touch you until you would tell him to.

I pull away, keeping one of my hands on his cheek as I smile in adoration. He was cute like this. His cheeks were burning up while his big eyes watched me attentively. My eyes search for his hands and I pick one up, guiding it to my waist. Mansk supports my movements, gripping and feelings my waist and hips in a way that told me he greatly needed this. 

“This is one way of keeping us warm.” I tease while his hands feel up my barely covered body. 

His eyes shoot up to me and he looks down with a small smile when he notices I’m teasing him. 

I decide to speed things up because my back is cold and I’m looking forward to the warm aftercare just as much as the actual sex. I lean back, sitting down on his groin which makes him shakily exhale. My hands then attach to the moist cloth of my sports bra and I pull it over my head. 

Mansk looks awestruck as his hazy eyes admire my chest.

“Touch me.” I whisper and in the next second, Mansk is cupping and massaging my breast. I sigh in soft pleasure, tilting my body so that my chest is pushed further out for him. 

Mansk wants to feel me closer so he wraps his arms around my waist and gently pulls me into his chest. I wrap my arms around his neck while he buries his face in my one, pressing his nose against the side of my throat and deeply inhaling my scent. 

I start feeling needy so I slowly roll my hips forward, grinding down on him. My actions make Mansk draw in a sharp breath and I feel his grip on me tighten. 

I continue and am able to feel all of him pressing against me. His dick twitches in his pants and I gasp when my clothed clit brushes against the side of him. 

Mansk’s ears are trained on me and longingly listen to every noise I make. 

I no longer want clothes to separate our bodies so I quickly press a kiss to his cheek before climbing off him on his other side. Mansk seems dazed and belatedly follows my movements. 

“Take them off.” I groan, lifting my hips off the ground to remove my panties. He doesn’t need to be told twice and his hands work on unbuckling his belt. Hurriedly he opens his army pants and tugs them down his thighs. 

I’ve ripped my panties off of me and thrown them somewhere behind me and now helped Mansk rid himself of his pants and underwear. 

Once he kicks them off his feet Mansk realises I’m completely naked and his movements slow. He seems to daze off again into his thoughts which amuses me. I press my hand against his deliciously warm chest and push his torso back against the bark of the tree before straddling his waist again. 

“You’re so beautiful…” Mansk mumbles and my eyes shoot up to him in surprise. I haven’t received a compliment in a long time and I could tell he meant it even though I wasn’t sure he knew he said it aloud. 

“Says you, pretty boy.” I giggle and his eyes widen at the pet name. A blush clouds his warm cheeks again and I smile. 

Mansk never thought he looked bad but he never found anything about him that he thought was really good-looking. Sure he was built but so was everyone else. That tattoo was meant to give him some uniqueness but he was often unsure of it. He just felt too regular and therefore any compliments about his appearance had his heart fluttering. 

I glance down between us and my eyes widen once again. I was expecting something normal sized but Mansk was much bigger than expected. Perhaps it was a common Na’vi trait but I doubted that. 

“Holy fuck-” I whisper under my breath, slowly tracing my fingers down his abs and to his v-line before stopping close to his crotch. Mansk hears my reaction and he can tell by the way I bite my lip that I’m happy with him. He feels more confident with what he’s doing now. 

I lift my hand and wrap it around the middle of his shaft to test the waters. Mansk shudders at the contact, inhaling deeply to ready himself for what is to come. 

Everything about him is such a turn-on to me I can’t stop looking at him. My hand starts to gently stroke him and I glance up to see that his eyes have fluttered closed. One of his hands was loosely holding my hip while the other was pressed together in a tight fist against the ground. 

His reactions make me crave more from him so I tighten my fingers around him, tugging at his dick before I stop at his tip and glide my thumb over the slit that’s leaking beads of pre-cum. 

He presses his lips together tightly and his ears flicker back in pleasure. It must feel good even though I’m working on him dry. This makes me realise I can just move to the next stage because I’m craving him badly too. 

I stop my movements, giving Mansk the chance to take a breather and recover. My legs lift me a little higher and I place my palm against the side of his dropped head. 

“Ready?” I ask, looking at him for approval. Mansk lazily nods his head, gently tugging my waist forward to steady us both. 

“Yeah-” he breathes out and I nod back. 

My hand slowly guides the tip of his dick to my burning and sensitive entrance, mixing his pre-cum with the heat that has leaked out of me. It seems the new bodies of ours are far more responsive to erotic feelings than human bodies.

Mansk holds his breath again, watching with lust-drunk eyes. I line him up with my hole and slowly sink down on him. His lips part as he feels himself become engulfed by warmth and slick squeezing him from all sides. A soft groan is elicited from his mouth, encouraging me to continue pushing myself down him. 

I gasp as he starts to fill me and once I bottom out I place both my hands on his chest to steady myself. My breathing is heavy while his is ragged. 

“Fuck-” he mutters under his breath. 

I decide to be a little mean and tease him just a tiny bit more.

“I’m warm now, we can stay like this.” I say, playing it off innocently. 

Mansk would generally never complain about that but at this moment in time, his body craved you so badly he needed you to move and help him find a release. He looked up at me and seemed alarmed that I wouldn’t help him out of his state so he naturally tightened his grip on my hips. 

I smirk at him, leaning my head back in amusement at his panicked reaction. Mansk can’t do anything but watch me with a pleading look. 

“Tell me what you want, baby. Then I can give it to you.” 

My words make him shiver and for once it’s not due to the cold. 

“Please move…” he whines, looking at me with desperate eyes. 

“Good boy.” I coo, rubbing my thumb against his cheek and he seems surprised by my praise but it makes him feel better. 

He wasn’t used to being a bottom but right now he wanted nothing more but for you to take care of him. 

I start to gently rock my hips back and forth making Mansk gulp as he restrains himself from digging his fingers into my skin. His abs tense and his biceps flex as he starts to finally feel pleasure softly rid him of the feeling of being painfully hard. 

I notice how even through his tension, Mansk slowly melts and relaxes against my touch. It encourages me to lean forward and I lightly wrap my hand around his throat. 

His hazy eyes reflecting his pussy-drunk state find mine and we stare at each other while I continue my movements. I notice how Mansk’s eyes have become glossy. He must feel overwhelmed by bliss.

“You’re being so good for me.” I whisper before kissing him passionately. While I do this I pick up the pace a little and Mansk whimpers into my mouth due to the pleasure and the praise. My ears shoot forward and the noise makes me moan against him. The way I gently pressed his neck from the sides seemed to feed his lust. 

Perhaps Mansk was so used to being stronger than me and more in charge that he just needed to once have the roles reversed and have someone take care of him. 

He would often tell me what to do and how to do things so switching the positions had us both excited. 

I start to lift myself off him every time I rocked forward and let myself glide back down when I rolled my hips back. 

This seemed to really do it for Mansk.

“Feels so good-” he whines, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. Without thinking, his grip on me tightens and he starts supporting my movements by pulling and pushing my hips up and down to my rhythm.

Soon enough, Mansk starts to buck his hips up into me to meet my movements and I moan his name which drives him wild.

“Shit- that’s it. Don’t stop.” I say with a hitched breath and gasping voice and he nods, never dreaming of stopping. His eyebrows are furrowed together and his eyes are fixed on where you two are connected, intently watching how all of him disappears in you with each of your harsh thrusts. 

Mansk and I were now almost panting and our once-cold skin was now glistening with tiny beads of sweat. 

“Y/N- “ he breathes through clenched teeth and his words wake me from my pleasured hypnosis. “I’m gonna cum.” 

His voice sounds strained and I nod. “Me too,” I whisper, tightly gripping his shoulders. “Cum inside me.” 

His wide-blown eyes meet mine to make sure I said what he heard. 

“Please.” I add, begging him to fulfil my request. 

He confirmed it in his head his dick twitched inside me.

“Fuck-” he whimpers, “ ‘M gonna fill you up.” 

I nod desperately, digging my nails into the back of his strong shoulders. I was close to cumming as well. 

I knew I couldn’t get pregnant if our queues weren’t bound together so we were fine. And quite frankly, I wanted to feel him deep inside me. 

One of my hands moves between my legs and I start rubbing lazy circles on my clit to help me reach my high. Mansk watches, completely entranced by my movements. 

Never would he have thought that seeing another person pleasure themselves would turn him on so much. And because it was you in front of him, it’s what pushed him over the edge. 

I felt him tense and once I felt the first spurt of cum shoot inside me I was thrown into a state of pure bliss. My walls clenched around Mansk and it made his hips stutter and jolt forward in pleasure. 

He pulled me into him again, burying his head in the crook of my neck while he helped me ride out our orgasms. I cried out his name while he groaned out mine and my hips desperately bucked into his thrusts in frantic attempts to prolong and drag out our highs. 

After a minute we both simultaneously calmed down and our movements stilled. I sunk back down on him, fully seated on his lap while our heaving chests were pressed together. 

My hands wrapped around his neck loosely while I pressed the side of my face against him. He really was warm now. Mansk tightened his arms around my waist and was now hugging me, making me melt against him. 

“Thank you…” he whispered against my skin and I smiled tiredly against his. 

“Don’t. I wanted it just as much as you.” I reply, pulling back from him so that we could look at each other. Mansk gives me a soft smile and I press our foreheads together. My fingers trace around his chest before I start to admire the luminescent speckles on his skin and on his face. 

“You’re so pretty…” I mumble in adoration, stroking his head and running my hand through his short hair. His gaze softens even more and he kisses my cheek, trying to feel me as close to him as possible. 

“Then that makes you a fuckin’ angel…” he replies and his answer makes me laugh. He pulls me into him further, making our warm skin press together everywhere possible. “So soft.” he mumbles, rubbing his cheek against my shoulder. 

I snuggle against him and we stay still for a few minutes, just warming up and calming down in each other's embrace before my yawn reminds us of how late it probably is. 

Mansk doesn’t want to let go yet so he leans off the tree behind him and lays down into the soft grass. I lay on his chest and we don’t move. He doesn’t pull out but I don’t mind. It feels oddly comforting and warm. 

“Can we stay like this?” he asks, not wanting to hold you against your will. 

“Yes please.” I whisper tiredly, stretching my legs before loosely draping them on either of his sides. 

Our breathing is calm now and my head is resting on his chest while his arms are resting on my back, snaked around my waist.

“Can you teach me how to braid?” Mansk suddenly asks, seeming to still be in deep thought while I was slowly drifting off to sleep. 

A big smile spreads along my face as I look up at him and rest my chin on his chest. 

“Sure, we can do that tomorrow. While we wait for the search team to find us.” I whisper and he nods, gently rubbing calming circles onto my back. 

Both of us needed this. The release, the warmth and the comfort. Especially after what happened today. As recom’s, we struggled to find comfort in ourselves so having someone else was exactly what we needed. 

My body seemed to suddenly be filled with a different kind of warmth. One that he gave my heart.

Suddenly, the forest didn’t feel threatening anymore and the noises, the lights, and the fresh air felt homely. 

Whether they would wake up the next day was a mystery they could only wait to find out about. But it didn’t matter to them because they were together. Perhaps they were the last of their kind.

And just like that, the two living impostrous and artificial replicas of the Na’vi fell asleep together beneath the shining stars and gently rattling leaves, of a world that wanted them dead and gone.

Tag List: @number1gal @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @ikranwings @numarusworld @jatwow

[ashdreams2023]

Hi! I hope you are well :) I had a request it might sound weirdly specific but I read this ages ago on wattpad and I can’t find it anymore and I was wondering if youd be able to recreate it? You’re my fav so I know you would do wonderfully. but basically it was like Loki x reader and Loki and the avengers went on a mission but it was like really long; gone for like almost a year or whatever and then Loki comes back and through that time the reader hasn’t been eating and there was like paparazzi talking about her weight loss and all that stuff idk if that makes sense but yea :) it’s okay if not 🫶🏻

I’ll try love and thank you for your sweet words

It made the news

Loki knew something had went horribly wrong, because why did he just hear your name in the news on the radio.

He’s been out the country for too long and couldn’t contact you for months now, he had hoped nothing bad would’ve happened while he’s gone, you weren’t exactly alone, there was still pepper and Peter at the compound but still.

"Reindeer games I think you should go back early"

"It’s you think but I should stark"

So Loki took the first opportunity to travel back to New York, he had to know if what he heard was true and if it was he will blame himself to no end.

When he did arrive at the city he grabbed the first newspaper he saw and cursed himself, the front page had an article about you and a picture.

You looked so fragile and extremely underweight, the article spoke about the drastic change in appearance throughout this period of time and how you stopped going out anymore.

The picture was taken when you were looking out one of the windows.

Loki burned the news paper in his hands and teleported to inside the building, the lights were off, it was the end of the day. He went straight to your bedroom.

The lights were off and you were sitting near your window staring out aimlessly, you hadn’t noticed his presence until he walked in and warped his arms around you, almost giving you a heart attack.

"Loki?! You’re back-"

"What happened to you?!" He looked down at your sunken cheeks and weak looking arms "Why…dove answer me, why?"

You opened your mouth then closed it, the look on your face gave it away and Loki didn’t know how to feel, he wanted to be angry, upset with you but you looked so…breakable that it just felt wrong.

"I missed you" you managed to say.

He felt his heart getting swallow up "Why didn’t you eat?"

"I lost my appetite?"

"Dove….when was the last time you ate something?"

You shrugged "last Friday….cornflakes…I think?"

Loki groaned and warped his arms tightly around you but no tight enough to hurt you "You crazy woman, you could’ve killed yourself! From now on no more long lasting missions, I don’t care if I have to stay here and be a bloody maid in this place"

"You would look good in a maid outfit"

He smacked your butt at that "you would like that, wouldn’t you?"

You hummed hiding your face in his chest "Maybe"

"You’re so spoiled"

"Only for you"

"Just how I like it and no more cornflakes"

"Come on-"

[maruyaaya]

hihi ^^ i just read your oikawa and noya fanfic and can i ask how you thought of them together? i have never thought of them but now i think that they are cute!

YESSIR!!! if i am to be so very completely honest and real with you, anon, i came to the idea of shipping oinoya because they are my top two favourite characters in haikyuu 💀 (akaashi is third <3). idk one of my fav things ever is just to take my two fav characters in a media and ship them together. hence mizuan (pjsekai), donjay (dc), ranaya (bandori), etc etc. so i will be honest i was entirely selfish in my idea for my oinoya ff. BUT i am nothing if not devoted to my rarepairs (i make up 21.4% of the ranaya tag on ao3 LMFAO some poor ranaya fan just trying to find content and they keep coming across my annoying gay ass 💀💀) so before i devoted myself to writing 17k words about oinoya, i needed to think about if this actually made sense to me.

and boy it did.

so the first thing i’m thinking is “dude do oinoya even interact in canon???” and they do! well, sort of. they have indirect interactions if that makes sense. oikawa aims his serve at nishinoya and nishinoya remarks on multiple occasions that he thinks oikawa’s serves are so cool. there’s this little bonus sketch where noya even wishes that oikawa would always be the one serving.

like guys i think it might be a little gay to be so obsessed with another players serves.

and that’s where the concept for my fic came from. the idea was literally just “what if oikawa’s practicing his serves and nishinoya finds him and they just start practicing together?” and then they slowly fell in love doing that. the main driving force was how much they both respect the other as a player. i feel like they both respect each other’s skills, but (at least, in the beginning of the fic) don’t quite like the other as a person. like they’re on opposite teams, oikawa’s dramatic ass considers it a principle to hate everyone on karasuno, noya doesn’t like oikawa’s “pretty boy attitude”, and they just don’t really like each other. however, they both think the other is a really fucking good volleyball player so they both resign themselves to practicing volleyball together; you don’t need to like someone to acknowledge that they’re good at volleyball (as said by noya himself in the fic)

the very first time i came up with the concept of them practicing volleyball together, the first person who heard about it was, of course, oli (akur000 on tumblr) because they are always the first to hear my fic ideas. then the idea slightly evolved in the tiktok dms of one of my irl friends, s (who does not have a tumblr but i love her just the same (she also proofread my google translate spanish in the fic with her four years of high school spanish)), and honestly the fic just grew from there. i started writing, the title came to me while i was listening to the crane wives song allies or enemies bc it just immediately struck me as a song that fit them esp in the context of my fic. “now listen close // you owe me ears for dropping eaves // forget it all // you caught me in a moment weak” and “what happens now? // do we have another go? // do we bow out, and take our separate roads? // i’ll admit i’ve had my doubts // but i want to be let in, not out” and “all is fair in love and war // but i can't fight with you anymore” which fun fact! i almost made the title of the ff be that last line of “all is fair in love and war” but then decided that i didn’t make oinoya antagonistic enough for that title so we ended up with are we allies or enemies? (this will be the death of me)

so let’s talk canon basis. there isn’t really much of one, but there is a little bit! so as mentioned, nishinoya often talks about how cool he thinks oikawa’s serves are. he’s eager to receive them. example below. he even mentions that when he was in middle school, his team went up against kitagawa daiichi and there was a guy who “could serve really well”; i don’t think it’s a stretch to say that he is very likely referring to oikawa.

so we know nishinoya respects oikawa but what about oikawa? what does he think about noya? well we get considerably less from his side, but that’s not to say that we get enough! while watching the shiratorizawa v karasuno match with iwaizumi, oikawa refers to nishinoya by his name. this is notable only because oikawa doesn’t do it for other members of karasuno. you can see in the below image that he calls tsukishima “four eyes” and even refers to hinata as “chibi-chan”. (kageyama is, of course, mentioned by name but honestly he’s a whole other basket of worms). nishinoya is mentioned by his name. not by a nickname, his number, or a describing feature. what this means to me is that noya stood out enough as a player to catch oikawa’s attention and he made note of it; he remembered nishinoya. oikawa doesn’t learn the name of every member of every rival time he plays (why would he?) but he does remember nishinoya’s and i think it’s likely because he admires nishinoya’s skills. noya stands out to him as a particularly skilled player. oikawa’s petty, but he recognizes when someone is good at volleyball.

so what we get is a mutual respect between oikawa and nishinoya. they both think the other is good at volleyball. another thing from canon that pulled me into them is the way they are the members of their respective teams with the biggest reputation (though i’d say noya is second on karasuno reputation wise bc obviously kageyama has the biggest reputation on karasuno). i don’t think anyone will debate me on oikawa having the biggest reputation of any seijoh member. he’s feared by other miyagi schools and for good reason. i think nishinoya’s reputation is clearer in the manga than it is the anime, but there are so many occasions where karasuno is about to start a match and someone in the crowd goes “lol who tf is karasuno?” and someone replies “idk but they have kitagawa daiichi’s kageyama tobio and chidoriyama’s nishinoya!!” like i’m not even joking that the phrase “chidoriyama’s nishinoya” is uttered so many times when spectators are trying to figure out who karasuno is. i only have two examples that i can pull from the manga off the top of my head, but trust me that it happens a fair few times. oikawa and noya are both known to be really good players.

and honestly? that’s kinda the extent of the canon basis of their relationship. so then what can we discuss next? well, we can discuss what exactly about that makes such a good dynamic and why i think they would genuinely work as a ship/couple.

oikawa and nishinoya both love volleyball. they're both incredibly skilled and they love playing, but i think that out of the two of them, nishinoya is the only one who actually likes volleyball (at least, as of 2012/2013 canon). this is part of a longer oikawa character analysis i could write, but i think that though he loves volleyball more than anything and no world exists where he would allow himself to quit, during high school (and middle school too), he stopped enjoying it and focused more on "becoming great" rather than "having fun". it's not until the brazil trip where he meets up with hinata and remembers that volleyball is fun that he regains that like for volleyball. i think a very strong theme in haikyuu is the loving vs liking of volleyball as evident in characters like hirugami. volleyball is everything to oikawa.

oikawa is willing to sacrifice everything to succeed. he wants to be the best, he wants to win. volleyball is absolutely everything to him. he goes pro because he cannot fathom a life where he isn't putting absolutely everything he has into volleyball. he'll bleed and he'll bleed and he'll give everything. that's why he loses his enjoyment for volleyball. he loves it, of course he loves it, but he doesn't like it because it's so painful to him. and yet, he can't understand ever giving it up.

nishinoya, on the other hand, does love volleyball, but it isn't everything to him. he quits volleyball because his friend quit. he likes volleyball, but he can give it up. he doesn't go pro because he likes volleyball as a hobby. he would never want to do it as a job because i think it would rob him of the enjoyment he has for it. nishinoya likes volleyball because he gets to play with his friends. he doesn't have that all-encompassing obsession with volleyball that oikawa has. for him, volleyball is about the game, not the result. he just wants to play.

so the idea of putting oikawa and nishinoya face to face is really interesting to me because you have two players, both extremely talented and with the ability to go pro, but only one of them wants it. you have oikawa, who doesn't think he has a future if it isn't to do with volleyball and then you have nishinoya, who could never professionally pursue volleyball because it would destroy everything he loves about the game. i didn't have the opportunity to explore this in my ff, but something i was really thinking about oikawa looking at nishinoya and seeing someone who could go pro, but doesn't want to and he just doesn't understand it; a part of him is convinced that nishinoya is throwing away his talent. he just doesn't get it and this could be such a big point of contention between them.

(i will be potentially writing another oinoya fic where i can explore this specific concept more bc frankly, i'm obsessed with it 🤞🤞)

both oikawa and noya are very passionate about volleyball. they're both also very passionate people in general. they're very overdramatic. like out of their entire teams, they're probably the only people who would care about "fraternizing with the enemy" or whatever tf they get so dramatic about in the fic (tanaka would probs have an intense reaction at first but i think that would just be his general distaste for oikawa). like you cannot tell me that if some other member of seijoh was dating a member of karasuno, oikawa wouldn't throw the biggest temper tantrum ever.

i think that oikawa is a character who isn't used to playing the "straight man" in his dynamics. because he's around iwaizumi so much, he's often the one who gets to be the silly one while iwaizumi tells him to shut the fuck up. around nishinoya, he has to occasionally be the straight man which i think is a new role for oikawa and one that i found kinda fun to explore. like you get oikawa, now faced with someone who has so much energy that it looks exhausting and he starts thinking that maybe he finally gets why iwaizumi always seems so fed up. it's a fun dynamic to explore and it's not one that's very prevalent in most oikawa ships so it's something a little different.

and i think oikawa really likes that about nishinoya. i think he absolutely loves watching noya be so exhilarating and full of energy off the court and then immediately becoming silent and focused when he stops onto the court. i think he would find noya's serious demeanour while playing to be very attractive (taking volleyball seriously is a major green flag for him).

another part of their dynamic i like to explore is the confidence levels. oikawa appears to be very externally confident, but internally, he doesn't really believe any of that; he's actually very insecure. nishinoya, on the other hand, is externally confident and it's true. he has confidence in his abilities and though he is always willing to learn more, he, at least, knows that he is good. i think that noya would be able to help oikawa a lot with that part of his insecurities because nishinoya admires oikawa so much. i think they work together in that sense.

they’re both also always so eager to learn! they always want to improve, they always want to get better. yaku says that that’s what makes nishinoya such a terrifying opponent. they both have a very intense drive to improve. and that’s something they could do together; they can practice together and teach each other. you can’t tell me that noya wouldn’t absolutely love showing oikawa how to do his rolling thunder move and oikawa would get such an ego boost when noya would ask him to show him how to better his libero sets.

and ugh i absolutely love the idea of oikawa moving to argentina and then noya, who is in the process of travelling the world, visits him in argentina. noya would absolutely go watch oikawa’s games and whenever noya comes to visit, oikawa has to bring him onto a court to play some volleyball. the whole argentina team knows noya by name and i think they’d love to bring noya in for a little practice game from time to time. noya, while travelling, sends oikawa pictures of him doing obscure shit in the countries he’s in (eg: the one that noya sends asahi of him fishing in italy LMFAO) and oikawa’s team thinks that they’re the funniest things ever. it’s like “tooru, where is your boyfriend now?” and oikawa points his phone at them to show them a picture of nishinoya hugging a penguin in fucking antarctica or some shit.

also guys can we talk about how the ship name for oikawa/nishinoya might be oinoya, but they could also be called noyaoi which guys… that’s the funniest fucking thing ever. like are u kidding me?? this ship is called no yaoi and you don’t ship it??

i’m so sorry i rambled for so fucking long 😭😭😭 i could talk for longer on oinoya but i fear i have written far too much on this post. basically tl;dr oinoya is a good ship with a really good dynamic and i think more people should consider it seriously.

[lightning-writes]

good heart (faulty machine of a man) - 14/30

fic summary: bucky meets someone at therapy

chapter summary: bucky tries to find support (alternatively, bucky is a big flirt)

word count: 1880

tags: post endgame, pre tfatws, slow burn, canon divergent, canon compliant, au

warnings: suicide mention, panic attack

a/n: flirty!bucky will never not be my fav!

AO3 MASTERLIST X

At his hearing, Bucky was told that missing therapy is like missing a parole meeting. So, when Raynor allows him to miss their session, it feels like a trap. In a way, it is, because she tells him that she wants him to attend a support group instead and have the moderator sign a form.

“A support group for what?” he’d asked on the phone that morning.

“Pick a trauma.” When he protests and tries to think of a way out of it, Raynor has thought of all the excuses and tricks. “James, just try it.”

She sends him an email with a list of locations and the types of groups she thinks might be helpful to him. He sees one in a school in Greenpoint and decides this is the one.

Rue: hey 4:13 pm

Rue: you’re not on the appt book 4:13 pm

Rue: are you okay 4:14 pm

Rue: is that allowed 4:14 pm

Rue: are you on some sort of avengers mission lol 4:17 pm

Rue: no offense but are there even avengers anymore? 4:39 pm

Rue: i mean ig there’s clint but that’s it? 4:41 pm

Bucky: Raynor is making me go to a support group 5:30 pm

Bucky: Sorry, I just got off the train 5:35 pm

Bucky: I just got here gtg 5:49 pm

Rue: good luck 5:52 pm

After he surveys the school, exits and such, he steps into the back of the meeting. It’s in a large classroom, looks like a music room, and all the chairs face the front of the classroom, toward a podium. The person talking, a short woman with short hair, falters mid sentence when she sees him. He averts his eyes from the few turning to him now, tugging his cap down lower. He finds a seat in the back. She’s talking about her late sister, who was killed by a drunk driver.

“Thank you for sharing, Tessa.” Another woman stands, addressing the room. She looks like a shrink, flowing beige cardigan and pants, braids pinned in a crown. “Does anyone else want to share?” No one volunteers. “Hank, you mentioned something before the meeting. Would you like to share that with everyone else?”

Hank, a man in his sixties, hesitates before hauling himself to his feet. His foot. He has a prosthetic and a cane. The metal clicking sound as he walks to the front feels familiar to Bucky.

“Hey everyone.”

“Hi Hank,” the room greets.

“I’d been coming to this group since my Carrie passed, but uh, another one bites the dust.” His laugh is weak, but some people humor him. “My buddy, Reese, he… he took his life this past Sunday.”

People murmur condolences. Bucky studies Hank, the way his breathing is labored, the downcast of his eyes, the way he clutches his cane and leans into its support.

“We served together,” Hank starts. “He was something of a superstar… and a real people’s person. Every commanding officer loved him like their own son… and he’s the reason I’m still here.” Hank pats his metal leg. “You know, out of all of us, Reese seemed to be the last person we’d ever think there was something going on. He,” his voice breaks as tears start rolling down his leather face, “he re-integrated the best out of all of us. His girl, Maggie, had been his rock overseas and the reason he made it this far.”

(A flash of… something rises in Bucky. He feels his skin prickle with it. He pushes it down. He doesn’t know how much more of this he can handle.)

“Reese was one of the people, uh, ‘dusted’, they say, and when he returned, he found out he had cancer. Lung cancer.” Hank is openly crying now. “And he… he didn’t want to be a burden to ol’ Maggie, so he…”

The group therapy gets up and puts a steady hand on Hank’s shaking shoulder. She whispers something in his ear, her hand moving against his back. He nods, taking the back of his hand to wipe his face.

“Reese was my hero, my brother. It feels like a piece of me is missing, and now I’m left with no one.”

The therapist starts to say something to the whole group about social support and emergency resources, but Bucky’s out in the hall before he hears the end. He blindly opens his phone, to check the time, but clicks the notification.

Rue: you wanna get dinner? 6:45 pm

(He goes to type his answer, but his fingers are trembling. Memories of Steve ebb through his mind, waves of nostalgia and grief and bitter hurt chasing them. He barrels out of the hall, into the playground area.)

“Bucky?” he hears in his hands. Dilated eyes land on his phone. He realizes he called her. He puts the phone to his ear. “Bucky, are you okay?”

(His voice is unreliable. His chest tightens. He’s embarrassed. He’s panicked.)

“James,” Rue prompts softly, “draw a square with your finger. On a table, on your leg, on the floor. Are you doing it?”

He sits on the asphalt, near a seesaw, and runs his trembling finger against the ground. The grit under his skin feels good.

“I’m going to assume yes,” her voice is light. “On the down stroke, inhale… when you go across, hold that breath. On the up stroke exhale… when you go across, hold again.”

He hears her lead by breathing in the same pattern. It reminds him of the first time they officially met. He follows silently. She tells him to keep drawing the square, to focus on the way his chest rises and falls, to focus on his feeling under his finger as he draws.

“You’re safe, Bucky,” she whispers. He takes a shaky breath. “You with me, old man?” He huffs a chuckle, hearing the smile in her voice. “Where are you? Let me meet you.”

////

“God, you are so intense.”

Bucky looks to his left and sees Rue. She’s wearing all black - black coat over black sweater, black jeans, and combat boots - but an easy smile. Her face is fresh and pink from the cold.

(It’s only on the way back to the subway, he realizes they’d been matching.)

“You’re so…” She tilts her head down, looks through her brows, and devoids her features of amusement.

“I’m vigilant.”

“You’re off the clock.” She loops her arm through his. “C’mon, I’m craving a burger.”

They find themselves in a chain burger place, where Rue flirts with the young cashier. His already ruddy face reddens more. Bucky sees her wink at him as she tips him.

“Do you flirt with everyone?”

(The question surprises them both, but he sees the delight in her dark eyes.)

“Are you jealous, James?” Her eyes search his unyielding face. “I’d flirt with you, but I don’t think you’d be able to handle it.”

“I could keep up.” Her eyebrows shoot up at his sure tone; he shrugs.

(There’s a shift between them, he notices, and it’s easier. It’s like they broke through the seal of whatever held either of them back. He’s not sure whether it’s their vulnerability or all events leading to this moment, but he’s not complaining.)

The waitress running out orders passes them, skirt flitting past. Bucky notices her legs.

“Okay, ladies’ man.” He knows his answer made her falter. Or maybe, she caught him checking out the waitress. “Show me what you’ve got, then.”

“Well, that would be inappropriate,” he says, putting on a pious tone. He gives her a teasing look. “HIPAA and all that.”

“Right,” she drawls. She looks unfazed, but he wonders if that’s a mask. She spots something over his shoulder, so she says, “Flirt with the server. If you get her number, it’ll prove you still got the moves.”

Bucky stares at her a second too long. Rue doesn’t flinch.

“I’m not going to flirt with someone unsolicited.”

“Trust me, it’ll be solicited.” 

(Bucky raises an eyebrow. Are you saying she’ll be interested or are you saying you’d be interested? he thinks)

She raises one back. “Unless you’re scared.”

Bucky heaves a sigh and rolls his eyes. He might be acting accosted by this whole affair, but his interest is finally piqued.

(He finally feels powerful, knowing this is an area in which he excels.)

He glances over at the waitress again. She seems about the same age as Rue. Her long thin braids are pulled back and held with a bright green elastic. She has a bright smile as she interacts with a family of three, parents and a young child. She leans to place a plate in front of the child. Her skirt lifts in the back, exposing more of her brown legs.

“Okay.”

He’s game. He squares his shoulders and runs a hand through his hair. Rue tries to hide her unbridled interest behind a mildly amused expression. When she schools her features, he knows that means she’s up. The same leggy waitress comes over and sorts out their food.

“Aren’t you cold, doll?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair easily. He lets her see him drag his gaze up her legs.

“Um,” she instantly flustered, “it’s part of the uniform.” She tries to smile, but he can see the mild panic in her eyes. “I’m running around anyway.”

He relaxes his stare to something more sensuous. “That you are.”

(If she turns her attention to Rue for help, he’ll stop. If she looks at him, even briefly, he’ll continue.)

“Is there anything else I can get for you guys?” she asks. Her eyes flit to him, then lower.

“Nothing you can give us right now,” Bucky says. He notices the way her breath catches at the base of her throat. “What was your name again?”

“Evie.” She plays with a braid idly, their gazes connect. He smirks.

“Evie,” he repeats slowly. “Thank you, Evie. We’ll let you know when we need you.”

“My pleasure.”

(His eyes tell her it will be. She gets the message, bolder now. He notices the way her hips swing as she walks away.)

“What the shit,” Rue hisses. She’s fanning herself with her hand dramatically. She’s on the verge of laughter, shock written over her features. “That was the most intense smolder I’ve ever seen. Are you a fucking vampire? Holy shit.”

Bucky shrugs. He reminds her, “I was a spy. I had to be both invisible and extremely noticeable… whatever the occasion calls for.” He picks up his burger and bites into it.

She follows suit, humming in delight as she does. “God, I love this place.”

Evie returns, approaching like a ghost. “I, um, brought extra napkins,” her flustered act is back, “in case you need them.”

“Thank you, darling,” he smiles like a shark.

(Involuntarily, his eyes pass over her once more.)

“James,” Rue is laughing. She’s rifling through the napkins until she gets to the last one. “You did it, you’ve still got it.” She hands him the napkin.

(He sees the loopy blue letters of Evie’s name and a phone number. There’s a light brown kiss over it. It also says, so you can warm me up.)

[badnew2005]

this is so silly and niche but i need to shout. no but s1 ep 6 of nuwho “dalek” I CAN SEE DENNIS REYNOLDS IN THERE HES IN THERE I KNOW IT !!!!!! i’m trying to be sooo cool and casual because i always end up rambling ab nine + the time war BUT . you’d make a good dalek. the dalek being weak and alone waiting for commands i fed off the energy of rose tyler literally saying she regenerated it the dalek & doctor parallels. the dalek being dennis’ hard exterior the person he pretends to be the walls he’s built up around himself that nobody can see into. dennis stuck in fight or flight and he does both ! a lot ! over the show specifically s11-15. nine being dennis inside being big feels being the person hes afraid to be in public. rose could be mac or mandy or maureen or anyone really. them arguing and rationalising revealing things about the war. how all the daleks are DEAD there’s nothing left to fight for there’s NO ONE left to fight for and win as. “if you want orders, follow this one. kill yourself” “the daleks must survive” “the daleks have failed. why don’t you finish the job and make the daleks extinct. did the universe of ur filth. why don’t you just DIE?” …… “you would make a good dalek” HELLO ?????????? EXPLODES. it’s so good. i’m not talking ab nine and the war i can’t i’m too annoying ab it. but can u see dennis reynolds because i can. first ninerose trip he takes her to see her planet burn because he wants someone to know even slightly how he feels. the doctor dances just this once everybody lives AHHHHHH i get sooooooooo annoying ab it my fav fav fav ever theres so much there. sorry i’m just rambling but. i could save the world but lose you. rose not making it out running away from the dalek. it wasn’t ur fault remeber that okay. and you know what i wouldn’t have missed it for the world. dalek trying to kill rose thinking ab killing her. i said i’d protect her she’s only here because of me and you’re sorry. you’re about as far from the stars as you could get. and you took her down with you. THE DALEK DOESNT KILL ROSE ! threatening to kill . it’s my purpose. but it doesn’t !!!!!!! i feel ur fear. evolving feeling emotions. LETTING FEELINGS IN. rose regenerated me. contaminated. I HAVE BIG FEELINGS!!! you’re alive / can’t get rid of me. long live macdennis. this isn’t my usual dw analysis or vision this is sunny lens specific. the rpg …… rose i’m begging you don’t kill him like you didn’t kill me but why are you alive what am i evolving !!! breaking the shell !!!! i can see dennis reynolds in the clouds in blades of grass etc. don’t do it don’t kill him you don’t have to do this anymore !!! you don’t have to keep running away. i want freedom ! i want to stop and be stationary !!!!!!!!! shooting a hole in the roof. you’re out. you made it. never thought i’d feel the sunlight again. how does it feel. opening up the hard shell battle exterior. there’s a creature in there ! feeling the sunlight. nine is back! angry and fighting !!!!! he needs to end the war it needs to have meant something he’s got nothing left. recovery isn’t linear. what the hell are you changing into. i couldn’t… i wasnt ….. oh rose they’re all dead . why do we survive. i can’t talk ab the war i can’t. why do we survive. i don’t know. rose did more than regenerate you. changing being something new and worthwhile isn’t good for the daleks. it’s not life. not life as you think it should be. killing yourself trying to be someone else. shouting orders as a husk of yourself a shadow of a shadow. balls! sorry. i can SEE you dennis reynolds. i know where you are. little piece of home, better than nothing. i’m the only one left, i win. how do u know there’s no one left - in here, feels alone. DENNIS REYNOLDSSSSSSSS. what are you doing standing inside a box. it’s bigger on the inside

[redrobin-detective]

Tim Drake Fic Recs

I promised a fic recc list after my exam here ya go you hungry devils

A Meditation on Railroading by eggmacguffin

When he ends up ditched in Atlanta after a fight with his dad, Tim decides to do the only sensible thing: Tell no one and make the 800 mile journey back to Gotham on his own.

Because the "call Batman when you're in trouble" rule only applies when he's Robin, right?

Exit Strategy by smilebackwards

Batman needs a Robin and Batman has a Robin. Tim is just extraneous now, vestigial. He’s a bandage over a healed wound. He doesn’t know what he’s hanging on to.

Or: Tim didn’t expect his exit strategy from the Batfamily to involve quite so much bonding time with Damian over Wayne Enterprises bureaucracy

Our Bodies & Other Fine Machines by SilverSkiesAtMidnight

He has never argued with a punishment, not since he was a toddler, if then. Surely she’ll listen, surely she’ll see this is too harsh, that he wouldn’t be disrespecting her like this if he was simply sulking over not getting his way. He needs that food, needs to be able to eat enough if he wants to be Robin.

He’s been hungry before, but back then, it never mattered if he was a little weak or dizzy. It never risked his life or the life of his partner when he was a kid.

She turns, sighing softly and pursing her lips. She reaches out to pat his cheek, and for a moment his heart soars hopefully, and he barely restrains himself from leaning into the rare bit of contact and soaking up his mother’s touch. “Oh, Timothy,” she tuts. “This is for the best. And honestly, I think it’s wise for you to cut down a bit on the snacks. I’d hate to have to listen to anyone tittering at the next gala that you’re getting chubby.”

And without another backwards glance, she turns and heads upstairs, leaving Tim alone and frozen at the bottom of the steps.

Hot Dog, French Fries by eggmacguffin

Damian was not the sort of boy to mince words; perhaps he could get back to the Manor without alerting Drake to his compromised condition.

It would be an exercise in espionage, he decided.

or

Truth Serum ft. Damian Wayne

5 Times Tim Spends The Night at Wayne Manor + 1 Time he Comes Home by motleyfam

Tim is good at galas.

No, scratch that—Tim is great at galas. He’s been attending them ever since the age of three, when his parents first stuffed him into his little Gymboree tuxedo and gave him a stern lecture about ‘sitting quietly’ and ‘speaking when spoken to.’ He knows all the rules: what to wear, how to stand, when to smile, what to say, what not to say. He knows how to come across as polite and intelligent and charming, and on absolutely any other day, he would be rocking this.

World’s Saddest Breakfast Club by motleyfam

Following a couple of Very Bad Weeks™ (which may or may not have involved being kidnapped and mildly tortured), Jason decides the best way to cheer himself up is to break into the Manor for a 3 a.m. snack.

Turns out he isn’t the only one awake.

Bird’s Night Out series by Calamityjim

Pure chaotic Robin energy. (I was sold on the Feral Tim Drake tag and it lives up to it’s name)

A Child of the Manor by lurkinglurkerwholurks

Dick was a fully independent adult–physically, emotionally, legally. He was of drinking age. He had his own apartment. He paid bills. Sometimes he woke up with a weird pain in his neck from sleeping oddly. He wasn’t a kid anymore. And still all Bruce has to do was call him Richard John to make him full-body cringe.

Crowlows19 Batman fics

Am I reccing this entire author’s batman catalogue? I sure am! I loved all their stories my favs include A Worthy Father, Panic Buttons, Little Liar, Elite, The Time Travel Problem and the Robin Questionnaire 

Latchkey by goldkirk

or, How Tim Drake Found A Family, Became A Photojournalist, Learned To Love Coffee, and Grew Up, not necessarily in that order.

Tim Drake is thirteen, runs the famous BatWatch blog that has spiraled hilariously out of control, has absentee parents that suit his purposes just fine, is training himself to run the streets at night, and is doing absolutely peachy, thank you.

Alfred and Jason disagree, and get Dick and Bruce involved in figuring out their weird nextdoor neighbor kid’s life. Everything goes uphill from there.

[lovecatsys]

sometimes i think about how if Laurie Collins was a more popular character people would probably hate her. or specifically if I wrote Laurie the way i want to write her people would hate her. She canonically sexually assaulted David and I think that is a huge part of her character tbh. I think she should be a bad person. Really toxic. It makes her really compelling to me. Her arc was one of my absolute favorites in Weir/DeFilippis Academy X.

I think she would have character development of course, but I really hated how Kyle and Yost took her from being how she was in the last few issues of Weir/DeFilippis to just being Josh's Bland Girlfriend Who Dies.

[peachycoreroo]

Hey!! could you do another "using the safe word" with kuroo, oikawa and tsukishima? thank you💕

characters: kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru, tsukishima kei

genre: smut, bit of angst, fluff at the end

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mean boys:(, fem!reader, vaginal penetration, degradation (duh), big dicked boys ig, use of the safe word, cervix abusing, kitten as a pet name, use of ‘slut’, ‘bitch’, ‘slutty’, ‘whore’, choking on a dick, one (1) face slap, daddy kink, master kink, jealousy, oral m!receiving, car sex

authors note: of course nonnie!! thanks for liking the first one sm that you wanted to request another<3 not really proof-read oopsie, but just another reminder that your favs would never hurt you and this is purely fiction<3

pt.1: suna rintarou, kita shinsuke, shirabu kenjirou

kuroo tetsurou:

it wasn’t your fault.

truly, it wasn’t. you didn’t even realize you gave off the wrong impression. sure, kuroos’ colleague was kind of sleazy and didn’t stop giving you compliments at the annual company christmas party, but you didn’t think he had any malicious intent. you just thanked him and spoke to him a bit about his work, while kuroo was busy catching up with his superiors.

but all your boyfriend was hearing were excuses when you said the exact same thing to him while he confronted you.

so now, here you were. getting pounded into oblivion in the backseat of his expensive, slick tesla. he didn’t even let you take the new car for a ride yet, but he’s already fucking you in the back of it. priorities.

“fucking slut”, kuroo hissed through clenched teeth, “can’t let you out of my sight even for a second, huh? already running to the next best man to pay attention to you. needy fucking whore.”

the next thrust hit your cervix at an angle that hurt more than it brought you pleasure the way the action normally did, but when you cried out in pain, the tall man behind you only covered your mouth with his large palm and lowly threatened: “you better shut the fuck up and take it, you ungrateful brat, or i’ll give you something to cry about.”

this felt wrong. it felt vile, mean and much darker than your usual jealous sex with him. you weren’t against degradation by any means, kuroos’ smooth voice could be reading the encyclopedia and you would cum just from listening, but this was different.

maybe it was the way he didn’t listen to your explanation, the way not a word of praise was mixed in with the degrading, or the way he kept hitting your cervix at a painful angle, as if to hurt you on purpose.

not your fault. unfair. cruel. vicious. stop. stop. stop!

this were the only thoughts that crossed your mind as your screams and protests got muffled by tetsurous’ large hand. not being able to take it anymore, as he continued to spew harsh remarks, too deep in his jealousy to see how uncomfortable you were, you slithered your arm behind you and tapped his thigh three times. you were never more grateful for the fact that you both decided on a non-verbal safe word when he finally stopped and immediately slipped out of you.

“kitten? fuck, are you ok?”, he questioned, worried, and now hyperaware of the fact that you weren’t reacting as usual as the haze clouding his mind finally subdued.

energy completely spent, you could only fall forward, curling up into a ball, a heart wrenching sob leaving your lips.

“i didn’t m-mean to tetsu’! i was just t-talking to him because i didn’t w-want to annoy you”, you cried apologetically, hands covering your tear-stained face from the black-haired male.

fuck. kuroo could practically feel his chest tighten as he took in your wailing, weak state. he was responsible for this. not his colleague, not you, just him.

slowly, as if afraid to scare you with any sudden movements, he reached out, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his strong arms tightly around you.

“i should be the one apologizing, i’m so sorry, kitten. you never annoy me, you know that, right?”, he softly whispered against your temple, pressing light kisses against it between sentences.

sniffling, you pressed your face against his neck, shamefully mumbling: “you were so busy talking to your superiors, i didn’t want to be the clingy, bothersome girlfriend.”

“you never are. i love you more than anything, ok?” his tender voice as he directed your gaze towards him and gently smiled, had butterflies erupting in your stomach just like the first time you talked to him.

“i love you too, tetsu’.”

oikawa tooru:

„d-dirty fucking bitch.“

was it supposed to sound this…unsure? and were both of your cheeks supposed to burn in embarrassment as if you were two virgins exploring your bodies for the first time?

when your boyfriend first introduced the idea of degrading you in the bedroom, you weren’t too sure, but from the sound of it, he wasn’t either. he normally opted for praise, wanting to shower you in affection and love in any and every situation. where the idea to degrade you came from, was a mystery to you.

it’s as if oikawa was able to feel how you weren’t taking him seriously, because the next thing you knew he had your thighs in a bruising grip, trapping them against the mattress with his large palm by your head and picked up his pace to an animalistic pace.

“fucking slutty brat. not taking her daddy serious? i thought you knew better than that”, he growled, annoyed, while your eyes widened when his fat cock reached new, painful depths in the current position he had you in.

“other women would do anything to have me underneath them, pounding the living shit out of them, while you’re just taking it all for granted. i should just pick one of my groupies at the next game, then you would come crawling back, huh?”

this isn’t what you signed up for. it hurt. everything hurt. the snaps of his powerful hips against yours, his mean threats and his blunt nails digging into the flesh of your thighs.

when big, salty tears started forming, you couldn’t help a whiny, displeased ‘turquoise!’ escaping you. the brunets’ thrusts halted as soon as the word left your mouth, his wide, shocked eyes meeting yours, before realizing how stressed out you were, making him pull out and embrace you without a care about crushing you.

“this was the worst idea i’ve ever had, even more than that one time where i tried to bake iwa-chan a birthday cake and almost burned down his own kitchen on his birthday! i hate hurting you, please don’t cry i- “, oikawa started rambling against your throat, only to pause when he heard you lightly chuckle through your tears.

“yeah, they were both pretty shitty ideas, tooru.”

pouting, he mumbled: “’m sorry.”

you quickly wiped away the tears hindering you from seeing your gorgeous boyfriend before softly suggesting: “let’s just stick with praise, ok?”

the man above you nodded eagerly in agreement before leaning down and capturing your lips in a gentle kiss.

tsukishima kei:

this wasn’t anything new if you were honest.

the usual feeling of your boyfriends’ long cock down your throat was always welcome, and the degrading nicknames leaving his slightly chapped lips were usually a huge turn-on, panties sticking to your wet, puffy pussy.

but today was different.

you had an awful day and just wanted some soft sex to make you feel wanted and needed, unlike your horrible job made you feel. not only were you running around fixing other people’s mistakes, but you were also constantly reminded that if you didn’t, it’d be easy to replace you.

though when you got home and your tall, blond boyfriend told you how much he needed you, you didn’t have the heart to deny him. now you’re on your knees between his spread thighs, while he sits on a wooden chair in your shared kitchen, his grunts and low condescending ‘such a fucking slut’s and ‘only good for sucking cock, huh?’s filling the space.

your displeased hum and you trying to pull off his cock, got interpreted the wrong way, as he placed a large hand on your head just to push you back down on his long cock, your gagging and choking replacing his sounds of pleasure.

“a good fucking whore keeps doing her job until her master says otherwise”, tsukki provocatively hissed as your teeth grazed the sides of his throbbing length.

you suddenly flinched as you felt a striking sensation on your right cheek, when the blondes big palm collided with it, tears that have already formed from the rough treatment now rolling down your hurting cheeks.

“you’re only good for sucking cock and getting off, so if you can’t do that, i just might need to find a better fucking bitch to get me off.”

at that, you couldn’t hold back the agonizing sob that left you, making you choke on his length once again and with a weak slap to his left thigh, he knew something wasn’t right.

immediately, tsukishima pulled you off his length, trying to be as gentle as he could with his hair tangled in your hair and gently patting your cheek to bring you back to reality, only to freeze when you scrambled away from his touch as if he was about to hit you and cry: “i’m sorry! don’t hit me!”

if you weren’t sobbing loudly, burying your face in your hands, you might’ve noticed how the cogs inside your boyfriends’ mind started turning and his hands shaking from the realization of what he had done.

“y/n…i’m not going to hit you. look at me, please”, tsukkis’ unusually gentle voice reached your ears, making you slowly lift your head and look at him through a blurry curtain of tears.

you could see a slight pink hue spread across his cheekbones up to his ears before he shyly whispered: “you’re the only one for me. i would never replace you, and you’re not only here to get me off. i love you too much for that. i’m sorry if i went too far.”

when you only continued to stare at him with teary eyes, the blonds’ blush deepened and he broke eye contact, too embarrassed at the affectionate phrases leaving his lips just a few seconds ago. it’s not that he’s ashamed of admitting his devotion to you, he just prefers to show it in other ways.

“i love you too, kei. the blush really suits you; you know.”

“shut up”, he grumbled in mock annoyance, a smile creeping onto his handsome features when you laughed.

tagging: @weepinglevi, @thighridingsamu, i feel kinda annoying tagging you but you both said i should tag you in everything so,,,,thanks for being my biggest supporters guys<3

[juicyquinn]

boys like you

part two.

a/n: i finally introduced joe, sorry it took so long for it to actually happen. also if you couldn’t tell, i am using inspo from jennifer’s body, one of my favs!! also i didn’t disclose before but joseph in this is not famous & he’s 24 while reader is 22. yea idk just where i wanted to stage it. hope u enjoyed :)<3

tw // blood, bodily injury, cussing.

"are you okay ma’am?" his husky but comforting voice raised. getting into a vehicle with another unknown man seemed absolutely batshit giving what happened the night before but you had to take your chances & get home. "i need to get home…. how far are we from range view?" your voice shakily asked the man. "not far at all, about 30-45 minutes but i can get you there in 20… she’s a speeder!" he giggled as he patted his dashboard. his softness made you a bit more comfortable & you found yourself climbing up into the semi & buckling up. the man nodded his head & looked forward as he began to drive. not long passed until your stomach started hurting again. you wiggled around in your seat trying to find some comfort. "what’s your name? & may i ask if you’re okay?" the man broke silence. "y/n… and i think so. just partied too hard last night i guess." you tried laugh it off & seem okay but your stomach was feeling worse. "how about you? what’s your name?" you questioned. "vincent. vincent hardy. you seem young, are you sure you’re okay?" he looked over at you with a face of concern. "nice to meet you vincent, thank you for helping but i’m okay. just really need to get home." he nodded & didn’t bother you anymore. at this point your stomach was in absolute knots & you definitely needed to eat something. vincent turned up the radio & tapped to the tune on his steering wheel. suddenly you smelled something so sweet & you felt heat radiating towards you. vincent looked over at you & smiled softly, turning his eyes back to the road. suddenly your mouth began to water immensely & something inside you changed. "i just wanted to thank you again, vince." you leaned over towards him & put your hand on his thigh, staring into his eyes with pouted lips. "ahem, uh yea of course y/n, always glad to help someone in need. about 10 more minutes until we hit range view!" he nervously nodded towards you and put his eyes back on the road. you squeezed his thigh a bit, "can you pull over? i need to pee very bad & can’t hold it. please?" you slightly whined & he quickly did so. you hopped out of the truck & walked a bit into the trees where you couldn’t be seen. you knew exactly what you were doing, just didn’t know why. you couldn’t stop yourself either. you clenched to your stomach as it shot pains & growled and you suddenly screamed. very, very loud. your knees felt weak & you dropped to your knees. not long after did you hear leaves cracking under footsteps. vincent found & ran over to you, quickly picking you up to your feet. "what happened?!" vince’s voice was shaken with concern. "i-i don’t know… my stomach is killing me i don’t know what���s wrong, please help me, please." you cried & pleaded. vince frowned & threw your arm over his shoulder, "you're fine sweetheart, everything will be okay." those words replayed in your head a few times until it snapped. everything that happened the night before flashed before your eyes in an instant & within seconds you black out.

once you regain consciousness you once again, find yourself covered in blood that’s not yours. "vince?" you called out to the trees, "vince are you out there?" you pleaded as you began to turn around. once your eyes locked you froze. "why did they do this to me?" a few steps in front of you laid vince, cold and completely lifeless. his eyes were wide open still & he looked so terrified. his entire abdomen was ripped apart, gone. your attention shot to the keys shimmering on the ground & you shuffled quickly to grab them. before making your way back to the semi you turned around to face vince, "i’m so sorry, i’m so sooo sorry." as you were walking you realized you weren’t sore anymore. hell, you felt like you could run the rest of the way home barefoot if you really wanted to. you unlocked the door & climbed up into the huge truck. seeing your bloody reflection in the rear view mirror made you realize you cannot be seen like that. looking deeper into the mirror you see a suitcase in the back of the cab. you hopped into the back & started digging through a mountain of clothes, eventually finding an old beat up grey 2xl hoodie. it would be big enough to cover up the important parts at least. once you were cleaned & settled you jumped out of the cab & threw the keys into the forest. 10 minutes from town wasn’t bad so you happily walked the rest of the way, you felt so good. your skin was soft & glowing, you hair didn’t feel dry & damaged. you didn’t realize how close to the town you got until you heard a car pull up beside you, "y/n? is that you? partied hard i guess, huh?" a familiar voice bantered from his always clean, grey 1970 chevrolet camaro. you squint to see & realize quickly, "joseph quinn," you smiled, "it’s nice to see a friendly face." joseph graduated from uni two years ago, when you were a sophomore. you met him your freshmen year & seen him here & there on campus or in class. sometimes at parties but it was more of a mutual friendship. "get in, i’ll take you to your dorm… i mean if you’d like me to?" he softly smiles as you made your way to get into the car. he is always so polite & sweet. a bit of time passed before joseph broke the silence, "so how’s senior year going for ya?" nudging you with his elbow. "absolute hell, i’m so glad i’m done in two months." you ranted, "but i’m also scared as hell of what’s to come after. time to really grow up." you glanced over at joseph & he was smiling. "you’ll be fine, don’t stress it. if i got it handled, you forsure do." he spoke confidently & so smoothly. "thank you, how’s being an old man going for you?" joseph laughed as he pulled into the dorm’s parking lot, "it’s pretty awesome." he tried to enthuse & you furrowed your brow at him, "yea i hate it & my knees are starting to pop." you giggled & stepped out of the car, shut the door & came down to the window. "yea you couldn’t fool me, joe. nice try though. thank you for the ride!" you stared into his eyes for a few seconds longer & he got visibly flustered. "yea of course, anytime!" joseph cleared his throat trying to seem less awkward. "you’re cute when you blush." you teased before walking away toward your dorm. "god i need to shower." you grabbed everything for your trip to the shower & went to rinse off the last 24 hours off of your body.

will post more soon (: xx

[height-in-uppercase]

𝘝𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘌 𝘏𝘖𝘗𝘗𝘌𝘙 𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘊𝘈𝘕𝘖𝘕𝘚

1. Upbringing/How He Was Raised

* He is a mama’s boy. Though both of his parents are present, he gets along more with his mom.

* He has three big dogs. A German Shepard (Leo), a Great Dane (Hades), and a Saint Bernard (Luke).

* Growing up, he was always told plenty of affirmations from his mom and dad that, no matter what, they love him & they’ll be there for him.

* They also told him that if anyone makes fun of his height then knock tf outta them (little did they know-)

* They have a rage room specifically built for, well…rage moments (and this isn’t exclusive for Vance, it’s for everyone😊)

* They have family dinners on the couch instead of the table.

* He hates summer (cause hair)

* He hates spring (cause allergies)

* He likes winter (cause Christmas vacations)

* That choker that he has? Christmas present from a fav relative (I personally say fav older cousin).

* When Vance started doing not-so-great in school, people started talking about it to his folks.

* And then when he would get into fights, people started talking about the whole family (I could go so much darker with this).

* Vance started to distance himself from his parents; not to the point where they don’t know where he is but to the point where Vance would look at them and nod.

2. His Academic Performance

* He’s more of a left brain than a right. He’s a huge nerd for shit that involves mechanics and engineering

* If you were to ask him what’s his favorite class, he would be smart and say “dismissal”🙄. But it’s genuinely P.E, and if you don’t count that as a class than he would say Science

* He’s caused accidents in the science labs.

* He used to be a “B” student. But then school became more difficult and his grades started dropping.

* The teachers noticed, some of them didn’t care. And very few tried to help him out.

* He has communication issues when it comes to “needing help”.

* Because of this, many teachers started giving up on him.

* He failed school, which made him feel like he’s a failure. And that, was the match that lit the fuse.

* When he got held back, he started loosing friends to where people would give him the stink eye and whisper about (obviously) him.

* One time someone tried to cut his hair

* Got to a point where he just said “screw school”, and stopped showing up (CUE PINBALL ADDICTION)

* Btw that boy that was next to Vance, yeah they’re not friends. Just regulars of Grab-n-Go. I personally feel like his name would be Langston.

* He would stay in the family rage room.

* His mom and dad would cry. Not in front of him though, because they didn’t want him to think that they didn’t love him anymore.

3. When He Was Kidnapped

* My theory: Vance got arrested one day. On the way to the station, a crash happens between the gr*bber’s van & the cop car which killed the two cops & knocked out Vance.

* When he first woke up, Vance was red hot.

* When he first saw The Gr*bber, he tried to fight him. The Gr*bber let it happen because he knew that boy was weak from the crash.

* He laughed when Vance hit his head on the door.

* Back at home his parents are hysterical.

* His dad actually frames the detectives saying that they “let this happen”

* His mom is throwing up in the bathroom toilet.

* When the detectives mention of Vance’s…”issues”, his mom tries to reason with them (cue TikTok that y’all blew tf up thank yew(and btw, I’m not sorry)🥹🙏).

* When the detectives asked if Vance had any friends, it broke his mom’s heart to say that he didn’t.

* When providing the background info, Sheryl (that’s her name don’t argue with me) could only think one thing.

* “Do you have his choker?” “What?” “His choker, his choker that he was given to on Christmas, his choker that he always wore! His choker that was green and had a-a-a-a little…thing, in the middle of it- oh what was that thing?!”

* Yeah..she went into a panic attack.

* When the Detective Wright tried to comfort and soothe her, she smacked him (and left a scratch mark).

* The dogs went into full on attack mode

* Meanwhile back at the basement, Vance is in and out from recovery.

* He’s crying a lot. Like, angry crying. BECAUSE WTF!!!

* He’s definitely tried the phone. And when The Gr*bber told him it doesn’t work, Vance said “it works fine as a weapon”.

* He was left alone after that.

* As the days went on, Vance’s mom went into a state of denial.

* She would have presents ready for him on Christmas and his birthday saying that he “went to go play is game” and that he’ll “be back soon”.

* She would even stay up late because “it’s a school night, he won’t be out long.”

* With Vance, he wouldn’t sleep. He was so filled with rage that he was full on psychotic and violent.

* On one of the days that the gr*bber picked up his food tray, Vance threw the plate at his face and tried to use the bottle as a shank.

* The Gr*bber closed the door and beat him bad for being a “naughty boy”(🤢🤮).

* After that beating Vance fell asleep, but The Gr*bber wasn’t done yet.

* As a way to “get on his good side”, the gr*bber would compliment Vance’s hair and eyes saying that they’re beautiful.

* The damage that Vance was talking about? Here’s what he did:

* Broke the window (not shatter, just broke)

* Caused a hole in the wall (given).

* Broke the toilet (as in took the lid and smashed it).

* Tore the mattress up with a hidden glass bottle shard.

* And ofc that was the last thing he ever did.

4. When He Died

* His.Mom.Lost.It

* Fvck the rage room, she tore up the whole house.

* She would take some of his baby photos and hold them close and sing them lullabies.

* She would sleep in his room.

* The dogs would wait by his door still

* One day, they got a random package on their doorstep.

* Vance’s dad brought it in and opened it to find Vance’s choker inside, all dirty and bloodied up.

* Cue scream of bloody murder (no pun intended) from the mother.

* The neighbors heard and when they went to see what was wrong, all they could do was stand still as they witnessed a grieving mother.

* When Vance’s body was recovered, one of the detectives updated Mr. & Mrs.Hopper.

* She went to the morgue and the first thing she did was hug him.

* She put the choker back around his neck and gave strict instructions to the person to “make sure he doesn’t loose it”.

* A miserably small funeral was held for Vance in the winter, near the time that they would have their family Christmas vacation.

[yengyangyo]

berry | k.s.w

pairings: kim sunwoo x female reader

genre: college au, friends to lovers

summary: you are in denial that you have a crush on your own friend, kim sunwoo until he made you confess your feelings.

word count: 1.9k

note: i wrote this on sunwoo's birthday. its quite late to post it cs i kept on postponing it sksksk but yea this was inspired by sunwoo's berry. enjoy reading! xo

-

you had sunwoo on your mind for days that you are lacking of sleep. it doesnt sit quite right for you to have this 'romantic' feelings for your bestfriend. meanwhile, sunwoo is not helping you to clear up your mind at all. he's just always there beside you no matter what.

he'd wait at the bus stop just to go to class together with you in the morning even when you're running late. lunch time together is a must unless one of you had other plans. both of you are just stuck together anywhere you go.

so for once, you thought it'd be a good plan to avoid him today. you woke up early that morning to get to class and you texted sunwoo that you had a discussion with your groupmates. this went on for a few days, you were making excuses everyday but sunwoo believed you.

until he couldnt take it anymore.

you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket and you saw sunwoo on the caller id. you were hesitating to pick it up until you felt someone grabbing your wrist from the back, turning you around.

"found ya!"

sunwoo appeared in front of you with the brightest smile. you couldn't help but to feel happy and welcomed by him that you started smiling unknowingly. you get back to your senses seconds later and avoided his eyes.

sunwoo knew something was wrong when he saw your expression fell. he glanced at your phone that kept ringing. he ended the call and your phone went off too.

"why arent you answering my calls? are you still busy?"

you couldnt stand seeing sunwoo looking all gloomy and upset. you felt bad for ignoring him so you tried making up excuses again.

"oh yea i was about to pick it up. sorry,"

sunwoo pouted and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. he's using his favourite perfume again today, you noticed. that scent happened to be your fav of him too. you felt weak and wanting to crawl into a hole or something.

"im craving chicken today. how about chicken and beer for dinner tonight?"

sunwoo turned his head at you, waiting for an answer. you looked up at him and his face was only inches away from you. you looked away, flustered. he had always been this way but only now you noticed how you felt about him which made it more awkward to be this close to him.

"i dont know, sunwoo. i'll have to check with my groupmates," you said, pretending to check your phone for your nonexistent messages.

"its friday come on. i havent hang out with you for days already," sunwoo whined and that made you laugh.

"alright but i get to choose where to eat,"

-

you chose the chicken restaurant near your neighbourhood where you both are regular customers there. the place was crowded with youngsters like the both of you, drunken with beer and chicken.

you were also getting tipsy from drinking. the first 30 minutes of the dinner went normal. asking how each other had been doing with the college life.

sunwoo sighed and rested his chin on his right palm. his eyes falters on you, searching for something. you looked away, feeling a bit burdened and transparent, because sunwoo knew you werent acting yourself these days.

"hey," he called you but you didnt answer and still avoiding the eye contact.

"hey look at me,"

you were startled at the warmth on both of your cheeks. sunwoo was cupping your cheeks to make you look at him straight in the eyes. you didnt know if this warmth was from his hand or from you blushing.

"what's wrong?" he asked. now his hand moved to yours, holding it tight. "you're avoiding me these days. do you think i didnt notice?"

silence fell between you two, just staring at each other. the guilt creeping up inside you and you didn't know where to start.

its the smallest gesture from him that create butterflies in your stomach.

that one time he opened the water bottle for you when he saw you struggling and saying that you're such a baby. his laughter filled the room when you frowned at the remark. you know how much he loves annoying you and in the end he always made you laugh too.

on rainy days, he'd always share the umbrella with you and keeping you close to him so you wouldnt get drenched. sometimes he'd gently rub your arm so you wouldn't get too cold.

sometimes he'd call you names like how boyfriend and girlfriend do, jokingly. though, you somewhat enjoyed it and played along. pretending to cringe but actually was flattered by him.

at this moment, your hand in his, eyes boring into each other, you just want to scream at him how much you love him.

you smiled in defeat and pulled back your hand.

"there were just so many thoughts going on my mind lately, sunwoo. im so sorry,"

he didn't question you any further and he nodded his head.

"whatever it is youre thinking, i just want you to know i'm always here for you,"

you smiled, this time sincerely at him.

"you always are sunwoo. i appreciate that,"

he smirked, "after all, i am the best that you got,"

you rolled your eyes and gave him your disgusted face.

"so are you gonna tell me what's bugging you?"

"i think i like someone. he's just always running round in my mind these days,"

you didnt know where the courage came from to blurt out that out of your mouth. sunwoo who was halfway shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth, stopped. he put it down and looked at you, doubting himself if he heard that right.

"i couldnt stop thinking about him. that pretty much explains that i like him right? or is it just my mind playing games with me?"

you swore you saw his face fell for a second but he went back to the usual sunwoo after that.

"does he know about your feelings?"

you shrugged, "nah. im still trying to find out what i really feel about him. should i tell him?"

sunwoo didnt say anything and chugged down his beer until its empty.

"yea why not," he answered simply. "he must be really lucky to have you,"

you laughed, "i havent done anything yet. there's a possibility that he'd reject me too anyway,"

its funny how you talk about this like its some stranger to sunwoo when you are talking about him. you felt light hearted a bit after letting that out.

"who'd reject you?" sunwoo said while playing with that piece of chicken, not looking at you anymore. "you're pretty and fun,"

you raised an eyebrow, wondering if you heard that right. he was still poking the chicken with his fork, eyes hazy and lips pouting.

"so you're not gonna tell me who is this guy you have a crush on?"

"you'll find out soon,"

-

sunwoo offered to walk you home though you kindly told him he didn't have to. he insisted and now you are walking beside him. he was suddenly quiet after the conversation you had with him.

"is that why you're avoiding me? because you have a crush on this guy?"

he asked, hands in his pockets, eyes looking forward. you looked at him, feeling a bit weirded out by his cold tone.

"no... okay maybe? i dont know. i just needed some time to myself,"

sunwoo fell quiet again for the rest of the walk home. when you reached the front gate of your house, you looked back at sunwoo. he looked like he was upset. you walked up to him and pat his side.

"hey thanks for walking me home. i'll tell you everything when i'm ready okay?"

sunwoo didnt say anything and you turned around to get out of that awkward moment.

"no i'll tell you everything right now okay? hear me out,"

you stopped in your tracks and facing him in confusion. he was pacing around, his hands are restless in his pockets.

"before you confess to him i guess i have to make a move on you first," sunwoo said, this time he raised his voice. "this is why people are saying we should always tell what we feel before we regret it and i dont want to regret it but i think im too late,"

you are worried at him. he looked like he was about to break down right in front of you. you wanted to comfort him but you didnt get what he's trying to say.

"sunwoo, i dont understand. what is it?"

sunwoo stopped pacing around and stopped directly in front of you. you swore you saw his eyes tearing up and you wanted to cry too. you thought, the alcohol has made both of you emotional.

"i like you,"

you both felt like the world is weighing down. it was as if the time has stopped for you two. you were staring at each other in disbelief.

"i know you like someone else and i shouldve told you sooner. i kept on putting back my feelings behind," sunwoo halted, gasping for air. "im too late now but i have to tell you this,"

"sunwoo-"

"i dont care who he is. but i want you to know that you deserve of love. you kept on telling yourself you dont deserve anyone. you know how badly i want to tell you that im here? i want to love you," sunwoo was practically shouting at this point. he sighed, "shit im already am in love with you,"

at those words, your tears came streaming down like crazy. you've never seen him cry but tonight he looked beautiful even when he's crying. you lurched forward and wrapped your arms around him. he buried his face in your neck and you felt his warm tears on your skin.

"im sorry. i just wanted to let that out after keeping it for so long. this is the worst timing huh?" he murmured under his breath.

you shook your head and laughed. you let go of the hug first and cupped his face in your hands. teary eyes staring at each other.

"sunwoo its you,"

"what?"

"i love you too,"

you closed the distance between the two of you, kissing him for the first time. that caught him off guard but then smiled in the kiss. it was sloppy but sunwoo is for sure leading you well at this. you both craved for this for a long time already. you were still crying of relief and touched by his confession.

"you should've told me before i start crying like an idiot," sunwoo looked down at you, smiling with his swollen eyes.

you laughed at him and you snuggled more into his embrace not wanting to let go too soon. you realized how much you miss him after those dreading days of ignoring him. he rested his chin on your head while gently patting you.

"im sorry ive been ignoring and denying my feelings for you,"

"its okay. thank god we actually like each other though," you both laughed at the same time and you havent felt this happy and giddy before.

"so i can actually call you my baby now?" sunwoo asked smirking at you playfully, knowing how much you hated it before.

"that's still cringy but sure, babe,"

[mersuperwholocked-lowlife]

Too Late For An Apology

Word Count: 1,823

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Reader

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader; John Winchester x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: angst, slight torture, slight TW: abuse, but doesn’t go too in depth

A/N: i’m sorry my posting schedule sucks now oof

A/N 2: Thanks to my fav bitch @tragedy-of-sorts​ for reading and also for being my fav 

A/N 3: The reader’s like six years younger than Dean, two younger than Sam

Masterlist

You heard your doorbell ringing in the middle of the night, while you shot your head up, looking at the clock next to you. It was 3 in the morning. You frowned slightly, reaching for your gun before slipping out of bed, looking through the eyehole.

“Dad?” you opened the door, revealing your father showing up in front of you.

“Hey, (Y/N),” you wrapped your arms around John, still in shock.

“Dad, what are you doing here? And at this time?” he walked into your apartment before you closed the door, turning on the lights.

“I have a lead. Hunting the demon that killed your mother. I’ll need your help,” he started.

You felt chills going down your spine.

“Where are Sam and Dean?” you asked.

“Sam went away to college, and Dean’s off somewhere, on a hunt probably,” he replied.

“Wouldn't either of them be able to help you better? I haven't hunted in two years, Dad,” you kept your voice low.

“They can’t know. They’ll mess everything up, you know how your brothers are. We leave tomorrow, okay?” you nodded your head softly, before going to pack your bag, getting ready for the big hunt.

---

“That’s totally unfair! (Y/N) doesn't have to train! (Y/N) doesn’t have to do anything!” you could hear Dean yelling at John, while you hid behind the door of Bobby’s house. You held a drawing in your hands, one that you made of yourself with your siblings and father.

“She is a child!” John yelled back.

“She’s twelve! When me and Sam were twelve you would force us to hunt! You never let us rest? I hate (Y/N) and I hate how you give her special treatment all the damn time!” tears welled up in your eyes as you crumpled the paper, stuffing it into your bag before sneaking back upstairs.

---

“Do you know how long we’ve been looking for you and Dad for?” you kept your gaze on your bed sheets in your hospital room, hearing Dean yell at you.

“I tried to-”

“Not only do you abandon us, now you’re back, and with Dad, and never thought it was important to tell us?” he yelled.

You frowned slightly before realization hit you. They never knew why you left.

“I’m sorry,” you clenched your jaw.

He groaned, frustrated.

“Get ready, we’re leaving,” he slammed the door shut as he walked out of your hospital room.

---

“I saw your journal in the trash can, (Y/N),” John sat down next to you in your bed.

“I’m kind of over the whole drawing thing,” you lied, shaking your head.

“What happened?” John asked.

“Nothing happened, I just don't like it anymore,” you shrugged, turning back to your schoolwork.

“Just like that?” he questioned.

“I want to go on a hunt,” you said.

“What? (Y/N)...”

“I’m sure, Dad,” you interrupted him.

“Fine. We’ll start your training tomorrow,” he agreed.

He kissed your forehead and left, before you laid on your bed, digging your face in your pillow.

---

You held back a sob, watching John’s body burst into flames. There was silence between the three of you, while you stood a distance away from them.

“Sam,” your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Let’s go,” he walked away from you, while he and Dean headed back to the car.

Your tears fell down your face, as you let out a shaky breath.

“(Y/N)!” Sam yelled.

“I-I’m coming,” you followed them back to the car, keeping your head low.

---

Your vision was blurry as you sat in the chair, a rope tied to your hands painfully. There was blood dripping from your wounds as you cried out in pain.

“Just tell us where he is,” the vampire grabbed your hair, pulling your head up.

“No!” you screamed.

Your face was covered with dried tears, new ones forming. Your eye was bruised. 

“You’re gonna talk, kid. Sooner or later,” you felt his fangs enter the skin on your neck as you whimpered. Your body was too weak to move.

“Just let me go, please,” you begged.

You could barely keep your eyes open, crying softly.

---

“What happened to your eye?” Dean walked past you, noticing the darkened skin around your left eye.

“Don't worry about it,” you shook your head, avoiding eye contact with him.

You knew he didn't remember what he did to you last night.

“Me and Sam are going on a hunt,” he said.

“Just you and Sam?” you asked.

“(Y/N), you know you’ll just end up slowing us down. If we need you, we’ll call you,” he replied.

“Right,” you nodded your head softly.

After the two of them left, you ran to your room, stuffing all your belongings into a duffel bag.

Now was finally your chance to leave them. They always hated you, it didn't matter that you were their sister. Your black eye is the least they've done to you while drunk, and you knew you had to leave.

You stood at the door, looking down at the bunker before shaking your head. It was time to go.

---

“Dad?” you opened your eyes, scrunching them as the fluorescent hospital light blinded you.

“(Y/N),” he let out a breath of relief, wrapping his arms around you as you winced.

“You’re not hunting ever again,” your eyes watered slightly as you nodded your head.

“I’m going to set you up with an apartment. You’re leaving this life,” you frowned.

“Dad, no-”

“Yes, (Y/N). You were tortured for information. I am trying to keep you safe, do not argue with me,” he raised his voice slightly.

“How come you never treat Sam and Dean like this?” you scoffed.

“They’re not my daughter. You are,” he said.

“That’s not an excuse. They’re still my brothers. They are still your sons,” you crossed your arms together.

“Enough, (Y/N). I’ll be back in the morning to get you,” he said.

“Dad,” he closed the door, leaving your room while you sighed, slumping in your bed.

---

“Babe? Are you home? I’ve been stuck at work all day, and I know we’re late to pick up…” you dropped your bag on the floor, Sam and Dean standing in front of you while you entered your house.

“Your husband and kid are out,” Dean spoke.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you were sure to take a step back.

“We could ask you the same thing, you know,” Sam scoffed.

“You left us again. You abandoned us again,” Dean clenched his fist in anger as you tensed, feeling fear run throughout your veins.

“I don't… why are you guys here?” your voice was softer as you scratched the back of your neck.

“You can't be here, you’re a danger to my family,” you could feel the nervousness in your veins as you stood firmly. You’ve spent too long afraid of them.

“You son of a bitch. What the hell are we then?!” Dean yelled.

You flinched slightly.

“Why did you leave, (Y/N)? Why did you run away?” Sam’s voice was slightly calmer, anger still evident.

“I couldn't take both of your crap anymore,” you shook your head.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean scoffed.

“The day I left, you asked me how I got that black eye. Because you didn't remember giving it to me that previous night,” you dug your nails into your palm, trying to hold back your tears. Dean immediately scoffed, shaking his head.

“You’re lying,” he said.

“All my life, the two of you have despised everything about me,” you started.

“(Y/N),” Sam opened his mouth.

“Shut up!” you yelled.

You saw a surprised look on both of their faces.

“I never noticed it until I was twelve. I drew a picture for you, Dean. It was a picture of all of us, Mom included. I wanted to give it to you until I overheard you talking with Dad. Y-You told him how much you hated… how much you hated me,” you let a tear fall down your face, as Dean’s softened.

“I always tried to do whatever I could to get you two to like me, or at least to not hate me. But nothing I ever did was good enough,” you sniffled.

“That doesn't change the fact that you abandoned us,” Dean tried to defend himself.

“The first time I left was because a vampire was trying to use me to get to Dad. He didn't want that for me, and so he took me out of the life, at least until he got a lead on Azazel,” you clenched your jaw, letting out a shaky breath.

“T-The… you and Sam used to get really, really drunk. You’d never remember it in the morning. You would h-hurt me. I covered up so many bruises because I didn't want to upset you two,” your voice broke slightly as you looked at Dean.

There were visible tears in his and Sam’s eyes.

“I never knew why you hated me so much. W-Was it because Dad treated me differently? Was it because I’m the youngest? Was it because I reminded you of Mom? Was it because… was it jealousy?” Dean took a step forward, while you quickly took a step back.

“(Y/N), we never meant… We never meant to hurt you,” Sam’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“That’s all you have? Really?” you scoffed.

“Sam, just… (Y/N). Listen to me,” Dean started.

“I was jealous of you. Dad always treated you differently, always treated you specially. I was stupid, and wrong. Every time I did anything for Dad, I would only get into more trouble. Whenever you disobeyed him, he would ignore it. I’ve been jealous of you my whole life. Even now. Y-You have a kid, you have a family. You got out. I’m sorry, kid. I’m so sorry for everything,” you wiped away your tears as you kept a strong face on.

“I need you both to leave,” you said.

“I’m sorry-” Dean said.

“The door. I need you both to leave. Now,” you shook your head.

“(Y/N)...”

“You’re about 34 years too late for an apology. I want you to leave. Don't come back here, stay away from me and my family,” the two of them looked at you in shock, before walking to your front door, while you held it open to them.

Dean gave you a small hug, while you remained stiff.

“Take care of yourself, kiddo,” he gave you a small smile, before walking out of your house.

You closed the door behind the two of them, immediately falling to the ground as you let out a loud sob, feeling your heart racing as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Your sobs died down as you leaned against the door, wrapping your arms around yourself. You needed to stay strong, and they needed to stay away.