#for so long that they always check his planning before kidnapping him to make sure he's free now

[wheneclipsefalls]

Little Gift - Latch

Neteyam photo by @cinetrix

Pairing: Dark Aged Up Neteyam x Human Fem Reader

Warnings: aged up characters, DUBCON/NONCON, kidnapping, MDNI EXPLICIT, yandered qualities, possessive behavior, slight degradation, interspecies intimacy, swearing, power imbalance, sub reader, dom Neteyam, manipulation, hair pulling, creampie, a lot more stuff but at this point you hopefully know whether or not you should read haha

Summary: Victory is finally his and Neteyam knows exactly how he wants to celebrate it.

A/N: A little unsure about my word choice but it's been fun writing from Neteyam perspective for the first time in this series. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist I Little Gift Masterlist

You belong here, perched on his lap with your head notched against his shoulder. So small and pretty that his legs barely register your body weight. He wraps a hand around your outer thigh to angel you further against him. This is perfect.

Everything is perfect. 

Pandora has rid of those Sky Demons and his prize, his little gift, is still here in his arms where you will always be. Those traitors are no longer here to tempt you with false promises of escape and a life outside of belonging to the Olo’eyktan. You may not realize it now but they would have broken you. It is only a miracle from Eywa that has allowed your beautiful spirit to stay in tack after all those years of inhabiting the same space as those treacherous creatures. 

The RDA may think that you are a gift given by them but in reality it is Eywa that has placed you on his lap.

You were created for him. Designed perfectly inside and out. 

His reward for all that he has had to endure. 

Now with you safely tucked in his arms and his People celebrating their freedom once more, he can rest. He is free to savor all that the Great Mother has offered him, although you prove to be difficult to rangle at times. That’s okay, he enjoys a good challenge. It makes your earned submission all that more satisfying. 

He’s not sure how long one human can cry for but it appears you are shooting for a record. Your tears have soaked the feathers of his Olo’eyktan attire but he doesn’t mind, not when you are snuggling into him for comfort. 

His plan of distraction worked wonders during take off but it was only a matter of time before your mind came back online and began worrying once more about the absence of people that never truly loved you. It’s to be expected however Neteyam is pleased to find that your response is not one of anger but sadness and seeking refuge. He couldn’t have asked for anything more ideal. 

He is your refuge, your one true home and the fact that you are learning that so quickly makes a sense of pride burst within him. 

The glittering gems of your new top compliment your own sparkling tears exquisitely. It had taken weeks for him to make but it was worth it. He would want nothing less for his pet on a night of such grand celebration. However, it becomes abundantly clear that he is not the only one who appreciates the outfit. 

It’s the fifth time Lo’ak has turned in the direction of the throne while dancing to check on you. Or at least, that is how his younger brother would be sure to phrase it but Neteyam is no fool. He can see the hunger in those eyes. Typical of his younger sibling to chase after what he can not have. What Neteyam himself possesses. 

Their eyes meet and it only takes a moment for Lo’ak to recover from being caught and roll his own back at his brother and turn to continue dancing. He’s not sure how much longer this game will go on where Lo’ak pretends to hold no interest. One way or another it will come out. Neteyam’s arm tightens around your waist, fingers running through your silky hair. 

It is then that he notices your little sobs have stopped and are now replaced with long deep breaths. It’s amazing that you are able to sleep through the banging drums and echoing calls but it seems that all of your crying has worn out your poor little body. Such a fragile thing you are. 

All the more reason to keep you close. And yet another reason he finds his mind swirling back to the idea of keeping you on a leash. Ideally he would carry you to and fro but there are times where he needs to have his hands available. With your habit to wander off he can’t risk having you fall and break your little neck. A leash would be the perfect solution.

Not to mention how good you would look trailing behind him, sweet little bow around your throat as a permanent reminder of his claim on you. 

His tewng [loincloth] is unbearably tight. It presses against your soft thighs but that’s not enough. For perhaps the hundredth time you shift in his lap, unable to sit comfortably on your red ass. You’ve given up on trying to convince him to let you stand but that doesn’t stop that supple little pout from gracing your lips every time you are reminded of the pain. Even in your sleep you try to wiggle and squirm from his lap. 

Of course there is another source of your constant squirming. A source that Neteyam finds his fingers dipping down to trace over as the base just barely peeks out of your tight pussy. 

This plug is much larger than the cute one you had stowed away in your old nightstand drawer. It had taken more than a fair amount of encouragement to slot that thick piece of plastic inside your cunt but the sight was magnificent. Complain all you want but the way your walls clench around it in desperation tells Neteyam more than he needs to know. 

It’s the largest size of his collection which means that tonight is the night. Tonight you will officially become his. Your pussy will soon forever have the imprint of his thick length inside of you, ruining you for any other man. Not that you would ever have the chance to be with another male outside of him again. Jared was the end of that line and the Olo’eyktan feels no hint of remorse for taking care of that pest.

Another flash of Lo’ak’s gaze.

Neteyam feels you stir when he lets out a deep sigh. However reluctant he is, it’s important to set his brother straight. Lo’ak has an overactive imagination after all and the last thing he would want is his little brother’s curiosity and desire becoming an interruption for the wondrous night the two of you are about to have. 

Those long lashes flutter open, throat caught on a sharp intake when he stands up and places you back onto the seat. Your dazed and confused look is one that Neteyam can’t help but coo at, the pad of his thumb running over your cheek. 

“Mawey, tiyawn [be calm, love]. I will be right back.” You’re already scrambling to your knees, finally keeping the weight off of your sore bum. “Be a good girl for me and stay put, yes?”

It’s a rhetorical question and one that he doesn’t give you a chance to answer before a kiss is placed on your hairline and the Olo’eyktan is parting the crowd. It’s obvious that there is a moment where you consider stopping him. You may be hell bent on never admitting it verbally but the other Na’vi put you on edge and being around him has become your one constant, a safety you can rely on. If not for his urgency Neteyam would take his time in teasing you on the matter. 

Your face always looks even more lovely with that deep shade of red, whether from anger or embarrassment or even both. 

Later, he reminds himself.  

The female rubbing up against Lo’ak looks more than put out by his lagged reciprocation. Her displeasure colors into slight shock when she spots her Olo’eyktan coming straight towards them. Lo’ak crosses his arms as his partner quickly signs the proper respect to their leader. Neteyam dismisses her easily. 

“Excuse me, sister. I require a moment with my brother.” Neteyam ushers Lo’ak away from the scene before giving her a chance to respond or offer to give them privacy. 

The fire’s light now just barely humming over their skin. The two brothers find a moment of solace on the outskirts of the celebration. Neteyam’s ears still buzz from the sensory overload it has taken for the past few hours. 

“If you’re going to ask me for another favor can it at least wait until tomorrow? There is a party, you know.” Lo’ak tall frame lazily leans against the nearest tree and he attempts to hide the way his eyes fly over Neteyam’s shoulder towards you by making a show of tying his hair back. 

“Funny considering how eager you were to grant me a favor earlier this morning.” Neteyam’s veiny arms cross over his chest, tail whipping back and forth in the cool wind. If Lo’ak is intimidated he doesn’t show it. 

“Aren’t I a wonderful brother?” Those sharp teeth shimmer as he makes a show of giving an over the top sarcastic grin.

“Lo’ak.” Neteyam growls. 

“Jesus, calm down.” Lo’ak groans, head thrown back against the bark. “She’s still your little toy.” 

“I am not stupid, baby brother. I see the way you look at her.” 

“Whatever.” Lo’ak bristles and makes his way to stomp off but he is caught by the upper bicep. 

“I don’t want there to be any…confusion.” Silence spreads between them, the only sound being that of Lo’ak’s harsh exhale. 

“I was only watching.” He finally says, voice dropping lower. 

“And you are free to.” Small steps bring him further into his brother’s space. “But let’s be clear about whose permission you need in order to touch.” 

“And I didn’t.” His arm is ripped from Neteyam’s grasp. “I’ve only ever babysat the little brat and done all that you’ve asked of me. If you are looking for problems to address I would start with her running off at every given opportunity. Take a look for yourself!” He flails an exasperated arm in your direction but Neteyam doesn’t even bother to turn. 

“I am aware.” There is no need to look in order to know that you have once again tried your hand at another escape. He can see it in his mind’s eye now, your small body carefully hoisting itself down from the high throne. Panicked eyes racing over the crowd in search of any Na’vi that could potentially halt your actions. All that before short legs race off into the darkness. “I’m giving her a head start.” 

It’s best not to let you go too far. Eywa knows you are very skilled at finding new ways to put yourself in danger, but a little chase is an exhilarating experience. 

“Oh yeah, you going to make me chase after her for you too?” Lo’ak spits out, urging Neteyam to roll his eyes at his brother’s antics. He resists however, that wouldn’t be very becoming of the Olo’eyktan. 

“I fear you would enjoy that far too much, brother.”

Instead of fiery words shot back the only line of defense Lo’ak puts up is a scoff and frowned expression, golden eyes simmering with words that he knows better than to voice. Neteyam can give his brother credit for that at least. He knows when he is stomping on dangerous territory. You, on the other hand, seem to be learning that lesson far too slow. It seems a cute tawtute like you are more of a hands on learner. 

“Can I be excused then, oh might Olo’eyktan?” He flourishes with a sarcastic bow. 

“Leave.” Neteyam bites out simply, forcing his eyes to remain trained on his younger brother as he joins the crowd again. It’s a safety precaution just in case Lo’ak gets a bad idea even after warnings. Much to the Na’vi girl’s dismay Lo’ak does not join her again on the dance floor and instead heads straight towards the fermented fruit. No doubt he will spoil himself into a drunken state. Unfortunately for him, Neteyam already has his hands full babysitting you tonight. 

He takes his time, however, greeting a few of the clan members and partaking in a small dose of alcohol himself. With your small legs it will take you forever to get a distance that makes this chase even remotely fun. However, once the drink is empty and he has done his dues as Olo’eyktan in the social event Neteyam can no longer keep himself at bay. There are other creatures of the night that could be waiting to catch a pretty prey like you.

Tracking you down is almost laughably easy with your sweet scent wafting through the air. A scent that only grows tenfold when he comes across a peculiar piece of plastic stashed in a bush. It’s the dildo that is meant to still be snuggled up in your little cunt. 

A sharp smirk cuts into his features. 

For such a smart little thing you really can be so negligent at times. With the dildo out your scent now goes from a dulled perfume to a thick fragrance that coats the air. He recognizes that aroma, he knows the way it tastes. Your arousal has only made you an easier target and now you have done nothing but take out the one piece keeping it plugged. Neteyam can envision so clearly that trail of slick that is sure to be marking your thighs. 

Such a messy little thing you are. Even after the way he cleaned you up so dutifully post launch, you have managed to turn into a wet temptation once more. 

The small footprints along the dirt are almost pointless in his pursuit now that he has your scent. They only serve as a confirmation that he is going the right way. It doesn’t take long before the sound of your sharp panting reaches his upturned ears. It’s then that the Olo’eyktan takes to the trees. He glides along the thick branches without a sound, gaining a bird’s eye view of your desperate running. 

The full on sprint you started off with has come down to a clumsy jog. Even with your small stride he’s sure you could make it a lot further if you would simply stop looking over your shoulder every other second. An action that has you stumbling and grabbing your foot to pick out a thorn from the underside. Little curses rise between your harsh breaths. 

And then your breathing is cut all together. 

The sounds of claws and wild yips echo through the greenery. By the sounds of it Neteyam knows it must be a small pack of aynantang [viperwolves]. They aren’t close, at least not yet. With your back turned and eyes blown out in silent terror he decides that now is as good a time as ever to interrupt. 

Neteyam lowers himself down slowly, muscular arms controlling his descent into a movement so smooth and silent that it is nothing more than a shadow. A shaky hand covers your lips, the little puff of your beating heart pushing your chest out even more. One long step forward and now he can watch your trembling from above, his toes almost touching your muddy heels. 

“Their bite is not as sharp as mine, pet.” 

You scream before the sound can be stopped, spinning so fast your heel that you land directly on your red bum instead. Even without glowing tanhi dotting your skin, those dilated eyes have a way of making you glow in the night. Even more so when they dazzle up at him with unleashed fear and vulnerability. 

You scramble backwards, clawing at the muddy ground until you are clumsily trying to crawl back onto your feet. Fine by him, it’s easier to close the height difference when you are back to standing. He grabs your right arms easily, pulling you back against him. The fight continues as you turn to bash your first against his abdomen, even clawing at his thighs but then another sound cuts you off again. 

They are closer this time.

“They hunt in packs.” Neteyam informs you. “Circle their prey until there is nowhere left to go.”

A rustle of bushes to the left has your squirming changing from running away to ducking behind Neteyam. He allows the action, sharp teeth peeking from his grin when he feels the way your soft fingers dig into his thighs. 

“My father was almost killed by a pack once. Even in his avatar form he depended on my mother’s mercy to fight the creatures off.” You shake like a leaf in the wind, your face pressed against his lower back when the sounds get louder. He almost feels bad for scaring you so much, tempted to bundle you in his arms and shush your worries away. However, that would ruin the lesson. You are the one that decided to run off carelessly into the woods without him and now you need to understand why you depend on Neteyam for everything. Why you owe him your submission and affection. 

“I wonder how you would fair.” A few more wolves prowl from the bushes, inching closer. They creep forward with a hesitance at the sight of Neteyam, driven only by curiosity as your scent continues to fill the air. 

“Teyam.” You whimper into his hip, now latching onto the strap of his loincloth to urge him backwards. 

“What’s wrong, pet? I thought you wanted to be set free?”

A vicious snarl rip from the right and you stumble to cling to his left side now. That startled little scream is just barely muffled by the way your face is pressed into his hip. 

He coos at your little pleas. “Has someone changed their mind, hm?” Any other time you would be barring your blunt teeth at him but he knows that in the height of your fear there is no resistance left for him. You’re too focused on the prowling beasts that flash their own teeth in eclipse’s glow. 

“Teyam please, let’s go!” Voice caught on sobs that threaten to rise, you can barely make the words out. 

Your fear is palpable, but not just to him.The aynantang [viperwolves] can sense it too. They circle and watch with more confidence as the seconds roll by. Periodically they flicker up to his looming form, as if checking to see whether or not he will be a threat against their newfound meal. It would be easy to scare them off, something Neteyam has done himself many times. He’s hunted these forests since he was a boy and his own scent is something that the creatures have learned to associate with danger. 

Standing here now, however, he keeps a neutral position and one that the pack hesitantly takes as an opportunity to cinch closer. A flash of his knife and that confidence would disintegrate until the pack would scurry off into another corner of the forest. 

Neteyam keeps it sheathed. 

“You’re the one that ran off, little gift.” He reminds you, voice calm and cool. 

“I know! I know! I’m sorry j-just please!” 

“Please what, tiyawn? You have to be more specific.” 

You struggle to respond properly, hands frantically switching from tugs at the straps to clawing up at his arms. Regardless, Neteyam remains unmoved, arms crossed over his chest as he observes the scene with indifference. “Please..please don’t let them-” You gasp rearing back when you spot another viperwolf emerging from the left. It’s been there for a while but it appears this is the first time your weak eyes have caught sight of it. “I’m sorry! I’ve changed my mind! Please, I’m sorry.” You cry out in a shrill voice, plastering yourself under his arm. 

“Changed your mind on what?” It’s tempting to look down and see the way you so desperately seek his comfort but Neteyam is wise enough to keep his golden gaze sharply pinned on the emerging creatures. 

“On wanting to leave! You can take me home just please-”

“Oh can I?” Your chin is snatched between two fingers, forcing you to crane your neck up towards him. That mask of indifference is gone, replaced only  by a fierce stirness you are terrified to be facing twice in one day. “And what makes you think that is up to you?”

It’s hard to look into your eyes directly when they are bouncing wildly in every which direction. Perhaps it is your pitiful way of tracking the oncoming predators, or maybe you simply can not handle facing his gaze filled with ire. Either way, it is adorable to watch your natural submissive nature emerge. And all from a few viperwolves. 

Poor thing, what would you do without him?

“I-I’m sorry.” You say, voice so small and timid that only a Na’vi would have hopes of hearing it. Neteyam’s chest rumbles with a deep purr, other hand finally coming up to run through your hair.

“I know you are, tiyawn. You just get confused sometimes, don’t you?” No response is given, instead just a gasp as another creature inches closer and you dash into his arms. This time he wraps one arm around your small frame while the other goes for his sheathed knife. The advance pauses, aynantang  [viperwolves] pacing from side to side instead. Your reaction is premature but Neteyam basks in it all the same.

From the heated breath and salty tears painting his lower stomach he begins to worry that your fragile body will soon give out and lose consciousness. Keeping you tucked under his arm is the best move, easily accessible for when he needs to scoop you up without retaliation. However at this point, it seems that you are willing to do whatever it takes to earn his protection.

What a short memory you truly have. Perhaps if you listened to him more diligently like a good pet should then you would already know that his protection has been yours since the first time he saw you. He would defend you to his very last breath. Whether or not you asked for it would be irrelevant. That being said, you’ve always had the sweetest way of begging so who is he to deny himself such a pretty chorus of promises. 

They flow now freely from your lips. Pleading, crying, and begging for him to get you out of harm's way. He simply shushes you, making no rush as a rigid arm tightens to pull you even closer. 

The creatures are scared off within the first few hisses that leave his lips. Knife dancing under the moonlight with a deadly promise, they yip away reluctantly. Still, there is an advantage to not letting you know how easy it truly is to scare them off so he tells you to look away, to keep snuggled against him where they can not so easily see your fear. 

You remain that way when you are lifted into his arms. Your thighs strain to wrap around his ribcage but you eventually manage to lock your ankles together. With your shaky limbs locked in terror you are barely in need of his supporting arm, but he wraps one under your rear anyways. You remind him of a small syaksyuk [Prolemuris] as you cling with fervor, lighting his amusement to new heights. 

The walk back is pleasant, even when your shaking doesn’t stop and your racing heart beat is louder than the stomp of his feet. There is still great peace to be found with you in his arms and the promise of a wonderful night in the air. After tonight you won’t dare to leave him, not now that you have developed a healthy sense of fear and even more so once your body has taken him fully the way it was meant to. 

He holds back a groan at the thought. Your smell is still just as potent as when you first ran and now it holds an extra tang of emotion that makes it all that much sweeter. He manages to pick up the tossed aside dildo on the way back, but that acts as fuel to the flames. 

He has sought after your true mating for months and now that he is on the cusp of finally making it a reality it is hard to keep a rational mind. The natural urge to pin you down and take what has always been his morphs into a feral urgency that infringes on his thoughts. Although, he is determined to take his time tonight because it is isn’t enough to simply fuck you into the ground or find pleasure in that first stretch. No, tonight is about claiming you in every way possible. 

About teaching not only your body but your mind that there is no one else it belongs to. No one else that can provide for you in the way he can. Utter and complete submission is his goal. But to get you there, that will take skillful maneuvering and coercion. Otherwise it would not be a quest worthy of his time or attention. 

However, there is still one more way he can lock you into his life. One permanent reminder that would forever keep you shackled to him. An action that would have your scent intertwined with his so much so that it wouldn’t matter if it took. Pregnant or not the message would be clear. The confines of his loincloth feel suffocating at the thought. Would your tiny pussy even be able to hold half of his seed? What a pretty treat it would be to see it spilling out from your perfectly pink and tight hole. 

Pace now quickened, nothing can take away his laser focus. Not even Lo’ak’s obvious staring as you are carried swiftly along the outer edges of the celebration. Nor Spider who tries to run across the crowd and apologize again. Neither make it to him because all that he can feel is the warmth of your softy body. The pulse of your heart. The essence that is entirely yours, filling his lungs. 

Once back in the safety of his kelku [home/house] you are smart enough to not flee from his lap. He manhandles one leg to be thrown to the other side so you are properly straddling him. A sense of shyness must fall over you because you are silent while nervously fiddling with the feathers of his traditional attire. Or maybe you are still too shaken up over the little viperwolf incident to do much else. 

Neteyam is unbothered by it, instead using it as an opportunity to let his hands explore. Not in a sexual way at first, just simple brushes that are sure to have you melting for him.

“Now you understand why you must stay by my side. Don’t you pet?” Voice as gentle as the hands that run up the back of your neck, he can feel goosebumps rise in its wake. Eyes still fixated on the feathers, you nod shakily. If it wasn’t so cute he would be tempted to reprimand you for such a half hearted response but it appears luck is in your favor. 

His knuckles paint a trail up the back of your neck before swiping over your left shoulder. His other hand softly gathers your hair to the other side so your skin is bared for him. He thumbs at the side of your throat, feeling your pulse flicker beneath his fingers. 

“Such a pretty thing like you is not safe out there.” His hands bracket either side of your face, large enough to span the entirety of your head and tilt it upwards. It gives him the perfect view of your expression when both hands smooth up towards your hairline before parting and dragging along your scalp. Lips parted and eyes fluttered closed, he knows he has pressed the right button. 

“Creatures eager to snatch you up.” Neteyam draws out, nails ever so gently scratching along your roots. The shiver that races through your body is powerful enough to be visual. Massaging at the area in long strokes proves to have you breaking into pieces. Body practically limp against him, the Olo’eyktan watches with glee. 

No wonder Sky People are too soft for this world, all it takes to disarm you is some well placed pets. 

“And they’d be successful too,” The tips of his fingers come together to circle your hair into a ponytail. A small sound exhales from your lips, leaning into his touch without resolve. “Have you between their teeth before you could even scream.” That dark tone washes over you in a way so contrary to the warning message, his lips mere centimeters away from your own. 

One little kiss, more of a peck really. That is all you get. Just enough to have you chasing after him, a motion that is hard to do when he has you anchored by the root of your hair. 

“And that,” Another soft peck to your cheek, “is why you are so lucky to have me.” Neteyam allows his lips to linger longer this time but it’s still just as soft, almost more of a whisper than anything else and with the way you are trapped, there is nothing for you to do but take it. The noise that catches in your throat proves it is far from the passionate affection you desire. 

“Isn’t that right?”

“Yes Teyam.” You puff, the softest whisper as you try to learn forward for more. He tutts in disapproval, a slow but firm yank to your hair following. “Y-yes Olo’eyktan.” You correct yourself with a squeak and much to his delight, the fragrance from between your thighs intensifies. He’s tempted to look now and see if it has left a spot on his loincloth. 

“There’s my good girl.” He grins and finally you are rewarded with his lips capturing yours. Although slow and tender in movement the heat of the kiss is all consuming, spreading a message that can only reflect his complete control over you. Several times you try to squirm or wiggle but the hand embedded in your hair shackles you into place. 

Unlike most times you become a fidgeting little thing, it’s clear that your efforts are to get closer, not further away. Neteyam is a nice man after all and so he indulges that desire. At least to a degree. He kisses you until you’re gasping for breath. He kisses you until slick is seeping through your mini loincloth. And he kisses you until those soft little lips are ruby red and chapped from the harsh treatment. 

It doesn’t matter to you, that much is clear by the way you whimper once he pulls away. 

“Don’t be greedy.” He smirks against your cheek.

Your greed only intensifies when he slips one hand down to untie your loincloth. His other hand remains embedded in your hair as a leash, one that proves necessary as you are eager to rut up against him. Perhaps he would feel guilty for the way you blush in shame after another tug to your hair. That is, if your reactions weren’t so delightfully endearing. 

For reasons mysterious to him, humans have a habit of going against their natural needs. You are not exempt from this issue as you are constantly trying to deny your desire for him, even deny yourself the pleasure you so clearly require. It’s fortunate that you have him to override those silly concerns. And override them he does, quite easily since your body reacts like a live wire every time he is near. The smallest of touches have you aching for more.

Eywa has blessed him with such a responsive little pet and he has every intention of exploiting that sensitivity until you are screeching for him to stop. 

Small hands come to dig into his feathered mantle as he idly explores the curves of your stomach. He traces up until reaching the sparkling gems of your top. With two little flicks your hardened nipples are bared for him. 

It’s a rare experience to have you so cooperative as he bites and sucks at those little peaks. The emotions of that day have softened your resolve, a pattern that Neteyam makes a mental note of. 

He tunes into every sensation of satin skin beneath his fingertips. Atop his thighs. Prickling beneath his lips. Like a flower you blossom for him so exquisitely. Revealing petals that are just for him. Melodic whimpers that only he has the pleasure of inducing. The irritation of Lo’ak’s infatuation fades to the background with you so pliant in his arms. 

You are quickly driven to madness, or at least is how you plead when he continues to trace, worship and tease your small body. Neteyam is anxious too. His hard member presses painfully against the fabric of his tewng. However, being the first born son has taught him something that you very rarely exhibit: patience. The fruits of your labors are tenfold more exhilarating once following a period of yearning. 

And you yearn for him, little gift. So much so that your dramatic begging has him holding back a deep chuckle. 

A river of nectar flowing down your thighs, you act as if you will pitter into dust if not satisfied. 

It will be fun training you. Making you learn to sit patiently like a good pet when that inferno of fire burns deep within you. He can devise a plethora of creative punishments for when you inevitably step out of line. Neteyam looks forward to the long process. He wouldn’t want to succeed too quickly and cut the fun short.

Luckily your spit fire attitude is sure to draw it out, keeping him entertained and challenged for a long time. 

The reasoning is only further confirmed when he catches you sneaking a tiny hand between your legs. The grip in your hair finally releases only for him to sharply smack away your attempt. 

“Did I say you could do that?” 

You’re exasperated, pleading eyes staring up at him as a drawn out groan comes from your lips. 

“Well are you planning to tease me all night or actually do something?” 

You’re pinned onto your back in a heartbeat, this time his right hand curled around your throat instead of your hair. It may not be firm enough to cut off your airway but the oxygen in your lungs freezes all the same. 

“Oeyӓ tiyawn I have greater plans for my pussy than using your pathetic little fingers.” He growls into your ear, watching as you are too frozen in shock to bother struggling. “Because by the end of tonight it will be filled with my seed.” 

Your throat bobs with a thick gulp, stuttered words struggling to come forth but a tad more pressure against your pulse earns your silence. And to his fascination, your eyes roll back into your head. Fight it all you want, but it’s clear you have always thrived off of his domination. This power imbalance is one that you need. Satisfying that deeply locked away drive you have to be loved, pampered, controlled, and absolutely ruined.

Just in the way only he can deliver. 

Squeeze any tighter and his fingers might just lose circulation. Regardless, the dildos have done their job effectively and now you are more than ready to take him. It was always going to be a tight fit, but at least there is little risk of real injury due to his preparations. 

You appear less convinced on that matter when his unoccupied hand roughly tugs off his tewng. Wide eyes stare down to where his full length lays along your stomach. He has to admit that in a position like this the size difference does become ever more staggering but he has every faith in you. 

“Neteyam please,” You whimper, shiny eyes staring up at him for mercy.

“Please what?” He hums. His fingers curl to massage that special spot inside while his thumb playfully runs over your clit. It has the desired effect, watching as your begging turns towards a different goal.

“Please let me cum! Need it! Neteyam please!”

Neteyam shushes you tenderly, relieving some of the pressure from you little button when he feels your cunt clench around him on the verge of an orgasm. You’ve never looked more beautiful than now, naked and spread across the little nest of blankets and pillows he arranged just for you. Long hair splayed out in every which direction and eyes already coated in a haze, it appears as if you have already been fucked dumb beneath him. 

“Patience, little gift. You will cum on my cock soon enough.” 

Your alarm flares up once more. 

“No Neteyam I can’t! It’s too big, it’s impossible-”

A large thumb presses over your lips to silence you. At this rate you are going to work yourself into hysterics and that would unravel all of the hard work he has done to get you here. A few more intentional circles on your clit has those protests flying out the door. It’s clear you require his help to stay calm and compliant the way you are meant to. The Olo’eyktan doesn’t mind aiding.

Your chest rises and falls dramatically as you melt under the pleasure. And when his three fingers are replaced with the head of his cock lining up, you hardly even notice. As long as that little bundle of nerves is being stimulated, you are hyper focused on seeing out that ecstasy to a finish. 

A soft kiss dampens your screech when he slots in just the tip. Already his mind swirls from the sensation but Neteyam manages to reign in his focus. Little ‘no’ s and pleas fall from your lips to caress his. 

“Mawey, oeyӓ tiyawn [be calm, my love]. You are being so good for me.” Another inch and it feels as if his own knees are about to crumble from how tightly you cinch around him. Small hands fists into the fabric below as your eyes squeeze shut. Neteyam shakily grasps one with his right hand, placing it along his shoulder that is now exposed with the feathered attire out of the way. “You can touch, little pet. Good girls deserve rewards.” 

With your face just barely reaching chest level the Olo’eyktan is forced to bend into an awkward position every time he goes to kiss away your tears, but it’s worth it. Those blunt little nails dig into his lower back. It’s a shame they aren’t strong enough to leave marks that he can cherish.

The air from his lungs are pushed out in a rush as he plunges ever so slightly deeper inside your sweet little pussy. You tense and cry beneath him, scratching as his back in haste. Although mere seconds away from popping his load far too early he still manages to reach down and play with your poor little cunt until more of that sweet essence is trailing out. 

“You need to relax for me, pet.” Neteyam grits, tail curling erratically. “Going to suffocate my cock like this, little one.” And it’s true because in all of his years of sexual maturity not once has he ever felt a pussy so tight, so responsive, wrapped around him. It drives him to the point of insanity. It takes every last bit of resolve he has left to not shove the rest of himself inside and plow you into the floor. 

But Neteyam knows better than to break his toys. 

The next few minutes test his mental and physical stamina over and over as you slowly take him inch by inch. Every slow push of his hips causes a domino effect of tears and incoherent cries from your sweet lips. He kisses and soothes and pleasures your trembling body until you’ve learned to relax again. Only to then restart the cycle when you take one inch more. 

However, nothing prepares him for the end result. No amount of dreaming or training could ever have done the sight justice as he sees the  way your soft belly bulges when he reaches the hilt. The shape of him is clearly visible, twitching so deep inside of you that it threatens to drive both of you into sensation overload. 

The groan that rumbles from his throat is one that you have never heard before. So rough and unleashed that your glittering eyes dilate in response. It’s still painful, that much he can see from the look on your face. So despite every instinct in him screaming to ruin your little pussy until it can take no more, Neteyam remains in place. 

Your swollen nub is red from his sensual play, nipples not far behind as he laps and kisses them like they are the last meal he will ever have. That beautiful blush now heats down your neck and torso, as if tempting him to continual his oral fixation. It accentuates most importantly that bulge of your stomach until he can’t help himself anymore, large hand spanning over your tummy to press on that area lightly. 

“Can you feel me, tiyawn? Right here?” He presses again, your mouth opening in a silent scream. “Taking me so deep, pet. My good girl.” 

 And it’s then that it feels as if something has clicked. Your bodies becomes attuned to one another. Burning stretch morphs into something otherworldly, those soft features finally unscrewing into fluttering bliss. And he draws out ever so slightly to rut back in, your head falls back against the pillows. 

He’s waited long enough. Pinned long enough. Crawled after you long enough. Now all that his body can do is take what you so freely give him. His hips snap forward without restrain, spurred on by the little sounds that pulse in the back of your throat. Little fingers scatter between gripping his muscular back and tangling into his braids. 

The heat that travels from his ears to toes is so intense that it feels as if he may burst into an inferno. And he truly might, little gift. With the way you hug his cock so snuggly as if you never want to let it go, you may simply kill him. He would be happy to go that way. To leave this world drowning in the bliss of your destined union. 

And for once in his life, Neteyam lets himself fully go. He chases that peak with fervent desperation. He drinks in every reaction you have to give him. And when the pleasure becomes all too much for you to take. When you grapple to crawl away from him and the mind shattering climax that is around the corner, he pulls you back down with a hiss. 

“No more running, pet.” He commands, a growl emanating so deeply from his chest that he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice. He hoists your left leg around his waist, effectively changing the angle to thrust in deeper. 

“Neteyam!” A screech like sweet honey from your lips as you finally tip over the edge. Body trembling so hard it takes that firm grip on your leg to keep it there, you crumble beneath him. His stamina is far from being drained as he rides you through it. Every wave of pleasure is stronger than a drug, leading him to cloud nine until he no longer wants to be anywhere else. 

“T-too much.” You gasp for air but your body is already succumbing to the onslaught. He can feel the way you are ramping up again. This is far from being over. 

“Give in.” Neteyam coos but the ring of that command is clear. There is no other option. That is the way it has always been because from the very beginning you have always been his. And sooner or later Eywa knew that the two of you would be here together, trapped in his love where you belong. 

“Oh God!” You cry out, body sliding up the floor with every thrust. 

Whether you find his queue by accident or on purpose is unclear but that first tug is enough to have his balls drawing up against his body, bracing to fly into bliss. There is a sticky mess between the two of you, slick enough to have those wet sounds filling the night air. Neteyam runs the flat of his nose over your sweaty temple and curve of your cheek. 

“My little gift.” He purrs, body on the brink of rupturing. He says it more for himself than you but is more than pleased to watch the way your eyes flutter close as the sound. Trembling, squeezing, and shattering around him, those are the moments your reserve of denial dries up.

That’s how it has always been. From the first night that he brought you home, tucked under his arm, you’ve had this other side that can be taunted out. Even that night as you had pleaded to be released only to have the gag put back in, his tongue had driven you to stillness. Your screaming of kidnapping had sizzled into a series of moans and ecstatic exclamations. 

There’s another side to him too.

The part of him that can finally bask in the one thing he has wanted for months. The part of him that yearns for reprieve day in and day out. The part that demands for rest- for freedom. 

Now he can finally surrender himself to the magic that the two of you create. To the sparkle that runs down your cheeks. To the sensation of being embraced so tightly by your little pussy. To the way his name has never sounded better from anyone else’s lips. Eywa has finally given him this gift, his sanctuary from every other pressure bestowed upon him. 

And now nothing is going to take it away from him.

Nothing will ever take you away.

Those are the thoughts that coerce his primal nature forward. The same that ramp the fire of his tongue demanding more from you. Pushing you further, harder, deeper. 

“You won’t let any spill out, will you pet?” He spits between grunts. 

“I-I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” More of a chant on loop than anything else. One day you will beg properly. You will cry for his seed, for his babies. You won’t question whether or not pregnancy is possible as he fills your womb with his mark. 

You will wear that little bow on your neck with pride.

Neteyam forces his eyes open at the precipice. Even as his body convulses and cock pulses rampantly while painting your insides white, he won’t allow himself to miss a single moment. That imprint of your expression as he finally claims you past the point of return will stay with him. The drawn in gasp that is sucked in from your red lips when you feel that warmth will be what keeps him going on day after day. Major to minor details of tonight will be his soundtrack to perfection as he pushes himself to be the best Olo’eyktan possible. 

And when the day has worn him to the bone and those day dreams are not enough, there you will be. Waiting for him oh so sweetly. 

“I want to sleep.”

Your muffled whine coaxes a chuckle from the Olo’eyktan.

“Then sleep.” He responds, only looking up from your spread legs for a second. So peaceful and sweet you are now, almost drowned in the hammock’s blankets and pillows. The picture of innocence and beauty only to then trail his eyes lower and find the evidence of his primal claim. His bioluminescent seed paints your weeping folds and inner thighs. A new spurt erupts from your still clenching hole only for him to push it back inside with his thumb again. 

It won’t make much of a difference. There is no way your small body could ever truly hold all of it but that doesn’t stop him from teasing you all the same. 

“Looks like this little pussy will need training to savor my seed properly after all.” 

Eyes still closed you let out a groan, trying to rip your thighs from his fingers. You remain trapped as exhaustion finally overcomes you, only a small incoherent curse from your tongue before passing out. 

Neteyam grins, reaching up to straighten the little pink bow around your throat. 

Please don't be shy. Hearing your thoughts and reactions is what helps fuel my drive to keep posting. Love you, pookies<3

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I know there are people I probably missed. It's getting harder and harder to keep track of this taglist so don't be offended if you aren't on there. Also, a good portion of these aren't linking properly so check to see if I have entered it in correctly and if so, you might want to look into your account.

[solelifauna]

So this NOT to imply the writing is bad

But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser

Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?

Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used

Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael

(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)

Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.

Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.

Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.

Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.

He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.

Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.

Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.

He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.

Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.

"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.

It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.

For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.

“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”

The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.

Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.

With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.

You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.

Finally, one of your spells strikes true.

The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.

You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.

But the celebration is short-lived.

Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.

“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”

With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.

You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.

The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.

You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.

Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.

“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.

You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.

You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”

His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”

You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”

“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”

You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.

The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.

“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”

“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.

“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should’ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”

Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.

“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.

You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.

“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?

Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.

Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”

You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.

Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.

The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.

“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.

You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.

“We’re not done here.”

And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.

Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.

“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.

He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”

His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.

By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”

His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?

“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”

Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”

“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.

“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.

You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”

Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”

Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.

“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”

Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”

And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.

For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.

-

As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.

Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.

What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?

Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.

How did you get so far away?

He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.

Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.

But the moment is fleeting.

He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.

Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.

"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”

Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.

"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"

Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"

"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”

That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.

"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."

"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"

A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.

"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”

Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”

“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.

Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.

Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”

With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.

Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.

He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.

Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Christmas Bells

Pairing: Dark Katsuki Bakugo x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: It’s your first Christmas with Bakugo and he makes sure it’s memorable. 

WARNINGS: Kidnapped reader; Implied Noncon/Abuse; Minor violence. 

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback 😊 Merry Christmas!

--

There’s a knock on the bathroom door, your name being called less than a moment later. 

“One minute!”

Suffocating back the sobs that insist on freeing themselves, your fingers desperately reach to wipe away the warm, sad tears that refuse to stop. You sniff, grabbing a nearby towel to wipe the gross snot that clings to your nose. 

Looking in the mirror for a quick check turns out to be a mistake. Deep under eyes circles, runny nose, red puffy eyes - you look awful.

Even more when you compare your ugly crying face with the red and yellow soft cotton Christmas pajamas you’ve been coerced into wearing, the one Bakugo is matching.  

Couple pajamas, he had grumbled when giving you the box. Because it’s your first ever Christmas together and he wants it to be memorable. Special. 

Special for him yet a nightmare for you. 

The last couple days have been hell. Bakugo’s been unbearable to deal with, having taken a week off of the hero duty just so he can spend quality time with you. You fervently wish he hadn’t.

Every moment spent by his side makes you uneasy and anxious, constantly walking on egg-shells as you await for the bomb that Bakugo is to set off.

Truth be told, you don’t want to spend time with him. You simply want nothing to do with him. He has a special way to become abhorrently overwhelming. 

Forced to play house with a delusional Pro-Hero isn’t what you want. 

You don’t want to wake bunched up in the suffocating embrace of his arms as his thick cock forces itself inside you.

You don’t want to set up the Christmas tree with him, pretending to care every time he asks you where do you want each fucking shiny ornament to be.

You don’t want him to kiss you like you’re his everything - like you’re a happy loving couple that has just assembled their first Christmas tree together.

You don’t want to play the role of a diligent girlfriend that peels off vegetables, sets up the dining table and washes the dishes and yet you do all of these tasks, knowing otherwise you’ll receive nothing but a nasty backhand and a speech on being a ungrateful brat, something that will sour both of your moods for the rest of the day. 

You don’t want to-

There’s a harder knock on the door. 

“Hey, you died in there or what?” 

Tilting your face up, your eyes lock into the ceiling at the same time as you take in a deep breath that does little to calm your nerves. You’re so tired, so fucking exhausted. Can’t even spend five fucking minutes without the asshole hunting you down. 

Knowing you have less than 60 seconds till Bakugo gets angry or worried enough to break down the bathroom door, something you’d like to avoid given it’s the only door in the apartment that has a lock, you reluctantly drag your feet to the door. 

Bakugo pushes the door forward as soon as you turn the lock open, entering the bathroom as he takes a good look at you, fixing his glare at your red eyes, still moist from your latest crying session. 

“What took you so damn long?” his question resembles an accusation, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dart around the bathroom, looking for whatever proof of an imaginary escape plan or so. 

“Nothing, was just washing my hands.” you lie, offering a placating smile. Bakugo nods, although distrust is still evident in his face but if there’s one thing you’ve learned is that suspicion is like a second nature to him.

Perhaps you deserve it but now, after almost 7 months after your last failed escape attempt, you’d think you’d been able to earn some trust. 

“C’mon, let’s go.” 

His hand reaches for yours, hot and firm as he always is, and you follow his lead as he takes you back to the living room. Confusion rattles your mind and you look up at Bakugo as he makes you settle on the couch by his side. 

“Hum…” you hesitate, lips parting as the blonde man lays his heavy arm across your shoulders, pulling you closer to him, “...I thought-” 

“Huh?” he doesn’t bother looking at you, busy fumbling with the TV’s remote control. He skips movie after movie till he finally settles at one of the Home Alone movies. A Christmas classic, you think. 

“I mean, isn’t it past bedtime?” A glance towards the digital watch on the wall reveals it’s  five minutes till bedtime. Surprising and shocking at the same time, as never once did he let you - or him - to stay up till this late. “I thought the curfew was nine thirty?” 

“Will you shut up and just watch the damn movie?” he snaps. You seal your lips tight after that, face immediately whipped to the front to stare at the cinematic 34-foot TV although you pay little attention to it. 

Awkward silence reigns as you watch the movie.

Nostalgia hits you hard as the movie carries on, your mind wandering through old dusty memories. You as a child, watching this exact movie curled in between your parents, laughing your ass off at the on-screen shenanigans. Simpler and happier times.

A dull pain stabs your heart at the thought of your family. How are they coping with the fact that their daughter went missing so many months ago, not even a single clue to her case. 

A part of you wonders how Christmas is going to be celebrated back in your home country, if your mom is planning to leave a sock for you in the fireplace, as she always has or if your dad is finally gonna buy that gift you had not to subtly begged for Christmas all those months ago…

Your nails dig deep into the back of your hand, a microscopic attempt to keep the tears from spilling as your eyes begin to burn. You can’t fucking cry - you reprimand yourself - if you cry, Bakugo is gonna be upset. If Bakugo gets upset, then you’ll have to deal with the consequences. And you don’t want that. 

“It’s Christmas.” his deep voice breaks out the silence, so random and unexpected you’re not even sure he said anything. He keeps his face straight forward, locked into the screen, even as you’re under the impression that he’s paying as much attention to the movie as you are. 

Bakugo sighs, finally looking at you and you don’t like how his red eyes pierce right through you, leaving you helpless and naked under his gaze. Like he can read every single emotion that boils inside you.

“It’s Christmas.” he repeats, voice softening. “First Christmas together, I mean.” 

“Yeah.” you stiffly reply. 

“Besides, we gotta wait till midnight so you can open your gifts.” he adds, pointing a finger towards the lit up Christmas tree, where some packages wrapped in red paper lay by its base.

A side of you feels curious about them, but another part warns you that nothing good ever comes with Bakugo. When did he ever give you something that is free of restrictions? 

“I didn’t get you anything.” 

“Huh?” 

“I don’t have a gift for you.” you explain. 

It’s a silly statement, although evident. You spend all day caged in his heavily-secured apartment with no way of leaving, no matter how much you’ve asked for it, and the few online shopping you’re allowed to do is on Bakugo’s laptop with the blonde man hunched over your shoulder, eagle-eyes following every purchase of yours. 

Bakugo shrugs off his broad shoulders, seemingly unbothered. 

Lacking the strength to further keep up with the pointless conversation you leave it at that. After a few minutes, the film fails to maintain your interest and soon you start drifting into a calm slumber, eyes drowsily slipping closed and barely aware of when Bakugo re-positions you so that your head lays onto the comfortable muscle of his bicep. 

Just a small nap, you sleepily think… 

“Hey, wake the hell up.” 

There’s an annoying tug at your arm. 

“Wake up, it’s time.” 

“Hm?”

Opening your eyes proves to be a difficult task with your eyelids awfully heavy. You yawn, sleep coating your features. 

Bakugo is no longer sitting by your side, but is bent in front of you, occupying all of your vision field. 

“It’s Christmas, already.” 

That certainly catches your attention, hands pushing against the couch to leverage you into a standing position. 

“Oh.” 

The clock marks exactly midnight and you stare at it, empty-minded. For a moment, you believe none of this is real, that you’ve imagined everything.

Any moment now, your family is going to start cheering and hugging you, felicitations and merry christmas’s being thrown around while everyone exchanges their gifts. 

Instead, reality hits you like a brick thrown to your face in the form of Bakugo’s squeezing hug, your face being pressed against his toned chest. 

“C’mon, let’s open your gifts.” he drags you to the tree, sitting on the wooden floor with his legs crossed as he pulls you into his lap, heavy arms immediately caging you in. 

“Start with that one.” Bakugo nudges a box with a rectangular shape to your way. 

It’s a bit heavy but as soon as your fingers reach for it, you immediately figure out it’s a book. 

As you unwrap the paper from the book, Bakugo squirms and pushes you a bit backwards, so your back meets his brawny chest.  

The cover of the book shows him - well, Dynamight portrayed in a comic artstyle.

“Dynamight’s Explosive Adventures” 

“It’s a comic book. Part of the new merch.” he slowly says. "Hasn't been released yet, and I warned the jerk editor that it can’t be published until my girl gives it her approval.”

You are surprised to learn how much Bakugo cared about your approval and opinion. A pleasant surprise and warmth rises to your cheeks. 

“That’s… really sweet.” you comment as Bakugo gives your neck a small peck. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” he brushes it off, “Just make sure to read that quickly.”

“Okay.” you almost sing the word out. You hesitate for a moment. “Thanks.”

The atmosphere feels strangely lighter, happier. It’s silly to feel like this when it’s something so small, so insignificant.

Still, you can’t stop the little smile that tugs the corners of your lips as you open the remaining presents: a shiny golden hand bracelet that Katsuki immediately fastens it down your wrist, a lip oil collection that you vaguely remember being on your wishlist. 

All of them are just nice presents and you wonder if you were being a bit too dramatic about it earlier. 

Reaching for the last one, Bakugo practically throws the small box into your hands, his chin resting heavily on your shoulder, his breathing obnoxiously heavy in your ears but you don’t dare to complain.

His arms tighten around your waist for a moment and you wonder if he’s nervous about this one. 

You receive your answer soon enough, heart dropping to your stomach as soon as you open the velvet black box, revealing an elegant ring inside.

A diamond encrusted ring band, to be exact. A engagement ring. 

No. 

Oh God, please no.

All of your jovial carefree behavior vanishes into thin air as Bakugo takes the ring out of the box, slipping it onto your annular finger and you wince when he pushes it down with a brutish strength until the overly small ring finally sits at the base of your finger. 

“Mrs. Katsuki Bakugo.” you can practically hear a satisfied grin behind those words.

That's all it takes for the dam that's inside your eyes to burst into miserable pitiful tears. From behind you, Bakugo growls - all traces of relaxation now gone - replaced by anger as he violently tugs your arm behind, forcing your body to face him.  

“No. No fucking tears.” his tone is harsh, and he takes it upon himself to swipe his big thumbs against your cheeks, cleaning up the endless fountain of water that your eyes have become.

Your hands weakly attempt to push him away, never meeting success in putting distance between your bodies as he immediately clutches your wrists. 

“I…Bakugo, I don’t want to-”

His lips capture your wobbling ones into a fervent, boiling kiss. His palm is large enough to cover the back of your head, stopping you from pulling away from the kiss. You’re trapped under his powerful strength, as you always have. You’re so stupid for fooling yourself into something that was never the reality. 

He kisses you with all of his ravenous, destructive passion until you’re nothing more than a limp body, until all signs of pathetic rebellion have left your body but not your mind. Your throat dries when his burning lips move to suck little spots on the sensitive skin of your neck, too many sharp teeth involved.

Your whole body itching to squirm away from him but somehow you manage to stay as immobile as a statue. You can only cry your eyes out. You’re weak, you’re pathetic, you’re-

“You asked ‘bout my gift, right?” his voice booms in your ear and you yelp as Bakugo pushes you down to the floor, crawling on top of you like the dangerous predator he is. His calloused hands already reaching for your pajama pants.

“You can fucking give it to me in nine months.” 

[sturnmeovr]

♡‧₊˚ Babydaddy!Chris x Sweetheart!Reader - Chris gets his license

(not me posting this a week before Chris told us he got his license���)

“I fucking did it!’ your boyfriend shouts throughout the house as soon as he opens the front door. The boys had been gone the last few hours, failing to tell you what their plans were since you in a dead sleep on the couch when they decided to leave.

Your morning sickness was starting to ease up, only enough to make you feel like you're somewhat functioning. The last few months consisted of nothing but vomiting, off-and-on fevers, and sweats and shakes, making it nearly impossible to get anything done. You were happy your constant state of nausea was finally wearing off.  Chris, being the big help he was, always made sure everything was squared away for you.

“Put your keys away, baby,” he jokes as he bounces around the corner, holding up a laminated square card next to his face with an ear-to-ear grin. You let a gasp roll off your tongue, standing up from the couch. Before you can say anything, Chris is already putting his feet in motion, “ya babydaddy is a licensed driver,” he beams, not letting his smile drop one bit. His comment makes an oh-so familiar redness creep to your cheeks, and you press your lips together, fighting back a smile. It was obvious he still had the same effect on you as he did the day you met. Clearing your throat to make no words get caught, you take the license from him to admire his picture, “you look so cute,” you coo at him. 

Chris hurriedly snatches it back, “my picture is bogus. I had hat hair,” he admits before you snatch it from his hand, “hey!” astonishment laced around his words.  “Chris, I’ve literally seen you with bedhead, I don’t care about your hat hair,” you snort before taking another look at his license, “why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve came with you!” 

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he tells you, sitting down on the couch and picking up a bag of Doritos you had abandoned an hour earlier. You sit down next to him, watching as he shoves a few in his mouth, “I don’t want you driving to all the appointments with how baby bean’s been making you feel lately," his voice muffled by the crunching of chips. You knit your brows together, indicating you could barely understand him. Once Chris finishes chewing, his words become more clear, "I don't want you go out late at night on snack run either. People kidnap pregnant ladies, y'know," he tells you before sitting up to take a sip of his Pepsi, oblivious to the fact he had just unlocked a new fear for you. You weren't leaving the house anytime soon by yourself.

“Yea, now he can stop asking me to get all the disgusting food combinations that kid wants,” Matt chimes in as he strides over the opposite side of the sectional, plopping down with a playful smirk plastered on his face. His comment earns a bellowed laugh from Nick who was sitting at the kitchen island, “It's Chris’s kid, what do you expect?” his voice laced with sarcasm. Chris lets out a heavy sigh as he tosses the bag of chips in your lap, “wow, no congratulations?" matching the same playful energy as his brothers, "I got a kid on the way, and I just got my license. Shows how much you guys care,” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Matt turns to you with the same shit-eating grin Chris had smeared across his face a few moments prior, “looks like you’re gonna have two babies on your hands in the next couple months, huh?” 

“As long as you babysit,” you shoot back, and he follows it with, “you fucking wish," quickly after.

I love how I came up with this fic a few days before Chris got his license 😂😂

Wc - 628?? Not proofread yet

An - Since you guys loved the last blurb 🥹 I just love this au sooo much Don’t forget to send me asks about babydaddy!Chris & sweetheart!Reader. Check out my babydaddy!Chris masterlist or my main masterlist in the meantime! I have a few post scheduled so be on the lookout if you aren’t on my tag list 🫶🏻

Taglist for all my works (comment to be added)

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @emely9274 @loveparqdise @sweetshuga @frickin-bats @katie-tibo @leila-marie4 @delusional-4-fake-people @shadowthesim

© All Rights Reserved to m00nl1ghts1vt. Please do not copy my work.

Dividers & photo edits are mine. Feel free to use.

[lovemaybankk]

ultraviolence - part 1: stalker!rafe cameron x pogue!reader (18+)

pairing: stalker!rafe cameron x pogue!reader

this is a two-part series, read part 2 here!

inspired by lana del rey's song, "ultraviolence" ♡

summary: unbeknownst to you, rafe cameron had been quietly watching you for months, his obsession growing darker with each day. one day, rafe's delusions reach a breaking point, and he kidnaps you, keeping you away in a secluded location where he plans to keep you forever.

word count: 2,779 words

author's note: i'm taking a long study break so i can write this... thank you so much for reading guys!! i sincerely hope you enjoy :) and as y'all can tell from my stories, i love lana. this is not proofread yet

p.s. next chapter includes smut!!

warning: mdni, cursing, mentions of stalking, mentions of masturbation

it was your usual evening at the wreck, the heat heavy in the air and the hum of loud conversations filling the space. you moved quickly between tables, balancing plates and glasses with practiced ease.

"hey! guys, you know the bill was only $61.39 for you all. are you sure you meant to put this much down?" you asked hesitantly, holding out the check presenter with the receipt, pen, and cash total of $300 stacked neatly on top.

your voice wavered slightly as their eyes snapped to you, the weight of their attention making you shift uncomfortably. before you could pull away, kelce scoffed and grabbed the presenter from your hands, glancing at the cash on top. his eyes widened, and his tone turned mocking as he turned to his friend. "jeez, rafe, THIS much of a tip for the pogue?"

topper leaned over to take a look, his expression even more condescending as he gave a low chuckle. "seriously, man? she’s just doing her job, there's no need to give her that much."

you froze and your cheeks began to burn under their scrutiny. not only that but you started to notice how rafe's sharp gaze was flicked to yours, lingering a moment too long, the corner of his mouth curling into a smile.

"i sincerely apologize miss, they have no idea how to appreciate a person who works as hard as you," he said, his voice quieter than you expected, almost thoughtful. his friends laughed again, clearly not taking him seriously, but rafe maintained his intense eye contact with you. "don’t listen to them. they’re just dumbasses."

the unexpected sincerity in his tone made your stomach flutter, a wave of butterflies you couldn’t quite explain rising in your chest. you nodded awkwardly, muttering a soft "thanks" as your heart raced, before quickly turning away, desperate to escape the intensity of his stare but unable to shake the strange feeling it left behind.

this was the beginning of rafe cameron's obsession with you.

it started as something you barely noticed—passing glances that lingered too long, his intense gaze following your every move.

often, he would follow you outside those walls. his sleek car would be parked down the street, headlights off as he watched you lock up at the end of the night. he followed you home, keeping a safe distance but close enough to know you made it there safely.

he told himself it was because he cared, because you were too sweet, too good for this world to go unprotected. but the boundaries between care and obsession had blurred long ago in his mind.

rafe was always polite when he came in. he would try to have long conversations with you, his voice soft and steady when he spoke to you, his smile always charming. when he’d compliment your work ethic or the way you always remembered his order, you only thought about it as him being a very appreciative and loyal customer who wanted to display his gratitude.

you had no idea about the photographs he kept in his phone, each one taken in secret: you laughing with kiara at the wreck, you walking home late at night, you coming into your bedroom after your shower, and many more.

he had saved your face as his home screen wallpaper or that he stared at all of your photos late into the night, tracing the screen with his thumb as if he could feel you through it. he would look at it and imagine what it would be like to reach out, to close the distance between you and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his fingers. he pictured the sound of your laugh, directed at him, soft and genuine as you sat together, completely at ease. he thought about how your voice sounded saying his name, how your eyes would light up when you realized he was the one who truly understood you, the one you were meant to be with.

he always thought you were beautiful, admiring every small part of you. the way your lips curved into a smile when you greeted customers, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were focused, even the little furrow in your brow when you were lost in thought. he loved how the sunlight caught the color of your hair when you stepped outside, and how the curve of your neck seemed to beg for his attention when you tilted your head. he often found himself staring at the way your eyes sparkled, the soft curve of your jawline that seemed so delicate yet strong.

the way your chest could be made out through the tops you wore, the way the band of your shorts would wrap around your waist, and the way your jeans would hug your plump behind. he would become rock-hard at the sight of you. with the photos he had of you changing in your bedroom, he would look at you in the comfort of his bedroom, laying in the dark, with his cock springing out hard and stroking himself at the thought of you being there. he would relentlessly pant and release himself all over his photos of you, imagining it was actually you present for him to paint white.

whenever you were close to him, leaning over him, all he could think about was touching you, making you beg for him to let you feel your release. he wanted to see you bare, moaning and whimpering underneath him as his cock was deep inside your walls. he wanted to feel you closely, specifically feel how your cunt would perfectly wrap around his cock, how deep he could go into your perfect body. he wanted to see you when you cum from his thrusts, see how your back would arch, how your breaths would be ragged, and feel you clenching around him as you rolled your eyes to the back of your head. he knew throughout all of this, you would look beautiful.

there was a journal too, hidden in his room, where he meticulously recorded everything he knew about you. like your favorite drink that you would always sip on between waiting tables or the songs you hummed under your breath when you thought no one would hear.

for him, it was about creating a story in his head where you belonged to him, where no one else could come close. he wrote down things you said, even the most casual words, and analyzed them endlessly, searching for signs that you felt the same way he did. he filled pages of what your life together would look like, dreams of taking you away to a place where no one else could interrupt your bond.

you couldn’t see the way his obsession consumed him more with every passing day. the lengths he went to, ensuring anyone who showed interest in you quickly disappeared from your life, were invisible to you. he convinced himself it was for your own good, that he was protecting you from people who couldn’t appreciate you like he did.

to you, he was another customer, polite and generous but otherwise unremarkable. you couldn’t have guessed that out of sight, rafe cameron was waiting for the right time to keep you all to himself.

one day, you went to grab your favorite jacket from the back of your chair at the restaurant, only to find it missing. you shrugged it off, thinking you must've put it somewhere else, maybe at home or in the back room. but then, it happened again. your pen, the one you always kept in your apron pocket, was lost without a trace. maybe you were being forgetful.

it wasn’t until you found something in your bag that didn’t belong to you, a crumpled receipt from a store you didn’t remember visiting, that the unease turned into something more concrete. you could have sworn you hadn’t been there, especially since it was on figure eight. it wasn’t your handwriting on the receipt, but something about it felt familiar.

then, one afternoon, as you were organizing your things, you found your phone in a place you hadn't put it in. not just anywhere, but at the bottom of your bag, buried underneath receipts and snacks. you never would’ve placed it there.

one evening, as you were closing at the restaurant, you felt a sudden, unsettling sensation that someone was standing just outside the door, watching. you looked around, but no one was there. yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t as alone as you thought. as you stepped outside, your heart skipped a beat when you saw something on the ground which was a small hairclip you thought you still had. the realization hit you like a wave: someone had been there, keeping a close eye on everything you did, and you had no idea just how deep this strange presence in your life really went.

"hey...just so you know, that cameron boy came in today asking for you," mrs. carerra informed you as she leaned against the bar counter, her elbow supporting her as she wiped down a glass with a cloth.

you looked at her with confusion. "really?"

"yup, i told him you would be back this evening so maybe we'll see him. just a heads up for you," she said, raising an eyebrow, clearly amused by the situation.

your curiosity peaked. "did he say what he needed?"

"no, he just asked for you by name," mrs. carerra replied, shrugging. "don't worry, that cameron boy is harmless."

you smiled, feeling a slight flutter in your stomach. you hadn’t expected someone to ask for you, especially not someone like rafe cameron. he was always around, always asking for you specifically and making sure to catch your eye whenever you were near. it felt intentional, like he was always looking for an excuse to talk to you, to get closer.

at first, you thought it was a coincidence, but the more you thought about it, the more you realized how often he showed up just when you were working. he’d even wait until you had a free moment, to talk to you, like he was taking every opportunity to be in your presence. and the more you talked, the more you found yourself looking forward to his visits.

later, as you were cleaning up the bar, you glanced over to see a familiar face sitting near the window. it was rafe, and this time, his eyes caught yours across the room. you felt a warmth spread through you as he stood and gave you a small wave. without thinking, you smiled and walked over to his table.

"hey," you said casually, even leaning to take a seat next to him. "how’s it going?"

"good, good," rafe replied, his usual relaxed demeanor in place. "been a long day, but nothing i can't handle. i'm glad to be here and have a nice meal." in reality, he was there to see you. he leaned back in his chair, his eyes studying you a little too carefully. "everything okay?"

you shifted in your seat, suddenly aware of how tense you’d become. "yeah, it’s just...i don’t know." you hesitated, your mind racing as you tried to decide whether you should tell rafe more. it felt like something you should keep to yourself, but there was something about him, the way he was looking at you, that made you wonder if maybe you could.

was he genuinely concerned, or was he just playing along for his own reasons?

"to be honest, lately, i’ve been feeling like someone’s watching me," you admitted, trying to sound casual, but you could hear the nervousness in your voice.

rafe’s expression changed slightly, his gaze narrowing in concern. "what do you mean, like someone is following you?"

you nodded, and you nervously wiped your hands on your apron. "yes, little things keep happening. i’ll find stuff out of place, or i'll get this feeling like someone's been in my space, you know?" you paused, feeling the weight of the confession. you hadn’t meant to share it with him, but his presence made it feel easier.

he tilted his head, his eyes softening as he leaned in slightly. "i’m sure it’s nothing, but i understand that’d make you nervous." his tone was steady, almost comforting, and the way his eyes stared made you feel like he genuinely cared.

"maybe i’m just being paranoid," you muttered, not quite believing your own words. but rafe didn’t look convinced. his silence lingered for a moment longer than necessary, his gaze studying you like he was considering how to make you feel better. he was always so calm, so sure of himself, and that made you feel safe around him.

you shifted, trying to focus on getting his food, walking over to grab the plate from the kitchen. as you walked back to his table, you felt his eyes following you.

it was like he was looking out for you, even if you didn’t fully understand why. there was a quiet confidence in the way he observed you that gave you a sense of comfort, like you were protected in his presence.

when you set the plate in front of him, he caught your gaze again, the smallest smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "thanks," he said softly, his tone warm and sincere. you smiled back, grateful for how easy he made it to be around him. he seemed to know exactly how to put you at ease, like he understood without needing to ask.

you could tell he was paying attention to everything you said, everything you did, and it made you feel special. in that moment, you felt like you were the only person in the room, and everything else faded into the background. as you moved on to check on your other tables, you felt a sense of comfort lingering with you.

as the night went on, rafe's gaze felt protective, almost like he was looking out for you. when the last customer left, rafe stood up from his seat, walking over to where you were wiping down the counter.

"hey, if you ever need someone to walk you to your car or, you know, just feel safer getting home, i can give you a ride," he said casually, his voice still calm but with an underlying sincerity that caught your attention.

you hesitated for a moment, but the idea of having a person you trusted, who seemed so grounded, with you made the idea of driving you home feel a lot less intimidating. "i think that would be really nice, actually," you said, the words coming out easier than you expected. the way he made you feel safe in that moment gave you a sense of relief.

he smiled, giving you a reassuring nod. "no problem at all," he said, his voice light but sincere. "let’s get you home safely." there was a warmth in his expression. as you grabbed your things and followed him outside, you felt comfort in knowing he was there, a steady presence that made you safe.

you got into rafe's car, feeling a sense of relief that he was there to make sure you got home safely. at first, the drive felt normal: smooth, quiet, with the soft hum of the engine filling the space between you. rafe kept the conversation light, asking about your day, and you found yourself smiling at the easy way he talked, the comfort of his presence easing your earlier worries.

but as the drive continued, you started to notice that he wasn’t heading in the direction of your neighborhood anymore. you glanced over, furrowing your brow.

"rafe…this isn’t the way to my house," you said, a slight unease creeping into your voice. he didn’t respond at first, his eyes fixed on the road, and then he casually turned the wheel again, steering down a darkened street that you didn’t recognize.

your heart began to race as you realized something wasn’t right. before you could say anything else, you felt a sharp pressure on your face as rafe’s hand clamped over your mouth, his fingers cold against your skin. you tried to pull away, but it was no use, he was stronger than you expected. your head spun as you struggled to breathe, the harsh scent of something chemical filling the car. your vision blurred, and the world seemed to tilt. you tried to scream, to fight, but everything was fading, and all you could do was hope that this was a nightmare as you drifted to sleep.

taglist! - @purplerose291, @o0itsjustme0o, @gillybear17, @l1ttlesstar, @10ava01, @frankoceanluvr11, @mattyskies, @my-name-is-baby, @ironmakerperfection, @cherry-coloureddfunk, @hoelesslyt, @crazylady20, @itsyourmanjuno, @wtfdudesblog

[xo-hoon]

an eye for an eye — p.sh

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: revenge, angst, smut, fluff

synopsis: Sunghoon nurtured a profound animosity towards his childhood friend, Lee Heeseung, blaming him for his sister's death. To Sunghoon, his sister was the only person who had genuinely loved him, making Heeseung's perceived betrayal unforgivable. This deep resentment sparked an intense desire for revenge, driving Sunghoon to extreme measures to achieve it. But to what extent would he go to find satisfaction in his vengeance against Lee Heeseung? Would his plans unfold smoothly, or would everything take an unexpected turn, throwing his schemes into something he didn’t expect.

word count: 4.2k

warnings: swearing, kidnapping (kinda), possessive hoon, mentions of death, fake marriage, depression, fist fighting, minor bleeding, hoon has detachment issues. (typographical errors)

an eye for an eye: last part - masterlist

Sunghoon woke up with the feeling of his wife’s figure laying on his chest. You really looked angelic while sleeping.

He couldn’t help but to stroke your cheek and feel the softness of your lips. He wished to see this sight every morning for the rest of his life. That way, even if it was cloudy outside, he’d always wake up with his own brand of sunshine. He wrapped you in his arms and basked in your warmth. He vowed to never let you slip away from him.

He would do everything to tie you to him forever. And for that to happen, he needed to take action.

He gave you a tender kiss on the forehead before getting up to take a shower and prepare himself for the day. Upon leaving the room, he went straight to the garden where he suspected his father was.

“Dad,” He called. From his newspaper, her father glanced up at him.

“Good morning, son. Sit down. Do you need anything?” Sunghoon sat down in front of him.

“I’m thinking of taking my wife on a belated honeymoon trip.”

His forehead creased. “Where are you planning on going?”

“Japan. I also wanted to visit Grandma and Grandpa.” They had never been close to him, but they knew your family. “I’d be grateful if your secretary could arrange everything for me and my wife.”

He folded the newspaper and placed it on the table. “Why does this seem sudden? What about the farm? I’m getting old, Sunghoon. I can’t manage everything anymore.”

“We have good people here, Dad. They are all hardworking and trustworthy. My manager could take over, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” His father fell silent for a moment, deep in thought over what he had just said. “Alright, I understand. When are you going back home?”

Sunghoon shrugged. “I don’t know. As long as possible?” His father’s lips twitched and his eyes filled with profound curiosity.

“Why do I feel like you’re planning to live there? Is there a problem, Sunghoon?”

Yes, there is. Sunghoon laughed. “Nothing, Dad. Anyway, we can’t stay there for long. I just wanted a little vacation with my wife.” He leaned back and looked at his father intently.

“Fine. But make sure to call here often. I’ll get my secretary to arrange everything. I’ll also have him come here to get both your passports.”

“Okay, Dad. Thank you.” He said and stood up after bidding farewell. Sunghoon breathed a sigh of relief. His father agreed. And hopefully, everything would go as smoothly as this.

—

You’ve noticed that your husband has been exceptionally busy these past few days. You already knew he was hard working, workaholic, even. But it’s quite different these days as if he’s constantly chasing after something. Today, he left with his father because they said they had someone to talk to.

You glanced at the oven timer, signaling that the cream cheese garlic bread you made is cooked. Once you checked and saw that they were golden brown, you grabbed the mittens to take the baking tray out.

“Wow, that looks delicious, Y/n.” Aunt Chul said as she just entered the kitchen. You smiled at her.

“I won’t be modest, Auntie. It is really delicious.” You giggled, placing the tray on the table. She chuckled.

“Really? Let me have a taste then.”

“Sure! But let’s wait for it to cool down for a bit,” You said as you removed the mittens and took the tongs to carefully transfer the bread onto the basket lined with wax paper.

“Oh! I’ll make us something to drink, Dear. What would you like?”

“I’ll have some green tea, please.” You requested.

“Sure, just a moment.” She began boiling the water and fetched the cups while you were arranging the bread in the basket, making it look presentable. Shortly after, you and the woman enjoyed the bread and tea together.

“This is so good, Dear!” Aunt Chul happily commented after the first bite. You nodded in agreement.

“Yes, it really is. I wonder who made it?”

The woman chuckled lightly. “No joke, Dear. It really is delicious. The cream cheese garlic bread I’ve had before didn’t taste like this. Sunghoon is really lucky to have someone like you, Dear. I hope you know that.” You were speechless at her words.

“I remember, Sohyun and Sunghoon used to love eating you baked good back then. They were the ones tasting and critiquing your creations.” Your smile faded as you recalled the past.

“I felt that they grew tired of tasting my breads back then. Especially Sunghoon.” You whispered softly.

“Oh, Dear! I doubt that,” The woman said with a chuckle and shook he head. “Didn’t Sunghoon always insist on tasting even the burnt ones?”

Yes, you could vividly remember that. Every batch you baked, whether perfectly made or not, Sunghoon always tasted them. He would praise them if they were delicious and cheer you on to do better next time if they weren’t. He was always there for you, ready to make you smile and feel good. He was your everything backthen. While you couldn’t do anything for him. You sighed.

“Yes, he’s a good guy…” You said softly just above whisper.

“What was that, dear?” The elderly woman asked. You glanced at her and gave a small smile.

“Nothing, Auntie.”

She took another bite of the bread and savored it like a child. “This is really delicious, Dear. I’ll miss this when you’re in Japan.”

You paused mid-bite upon hearing her words. “What? Japan?” You asked, confused.

“Yes, Japan. Didn’t Sunghoon tell you? You’re leaving tomorrow to go to Japan. Your husband has already arranged for your things to be packed,” She explained. Your jaw might have dropped at Aunt Chul’s news. Japan? Leaving? Tomorrow? You had no idea of what she was talking about. You felt your phone vibrating in your pocket.

“Heeseung…” You murmured as you saw the registered number. Quickly excusing yourself from Aunt Chul, you hurried upstairs to your room to answer the call.

“Heeseung?”

“What’s this I hear about you and Sunghoon leaving?”

He asked sternly. You paced back and forth in the room, feeling like a cat about to give birth, anxious and unsettled.

“I don’t know! Aunt Chul just mentioned it to me just now. I had no idea. Sunghoon hasn’t said anything about us leaving.”

You stopped in your tracks and pulled at your hair, feeling frustrated. What was he thinking?

“He’s freaking insane! You need to come home now, Y/n. We need to talk about this,”

He insisted.

“But—”

“If you won’t come here, I’ll come there.”

He said sharply. You took a deep breath.

“Okay, I’ll be there in an hour.”

You quickly left the mansion, being careful not to be seen by anyone. You also didn’t ask the driver to take you to avoid anyone from knowing where you were going. Upon arriving at your house, Heeseung form immediately greeted you. His face was serious.

“Let’s talk inside.” He said, leading the way.

—

Sunghoon and his father was greeted by Aunt Chul once they entered the mansion. “Would you like to two like to have snacks or rest first?” She asked.

“I’ll rest for a bit. I’ll come down later for dinner,” Mr. Park replied, heading up to his room.

“And you, son?” The woman turned to him. Sunghoon smiled at her.

“I’ll go rest first, Auntie.”

“Is that so? Y/n baked cream cheese garlic bread,” She added making him chuckle at her obvious teasing.

“I’ll go see her first, Auntie,” He replied.

“Oh, yes. That’s right.” She quickly agreed. “Go on, she’s in your room. She went up there after we ate earlier.” She gently nudged him.

“Hurry up now.” He chuckled at the woman’s gesture. He was near the stairs when she called him.

“I’m glad you hear your laughter again, son.” She said sincerely. He smiled back at her.

“Me too, Auntie.”

He went up to their room. However. It was dark inside, and you weren’t there. The windows were open, and the curtains swayed gently with the breeze. He wondered and checked the bathroom as well, but you weren’t there either. He went downstairs to find Aunt Chul.

“Auntie, have you seen Y/n?” He asked. She furrowed her brow.

“Isn’t she in your room?” He shook his head. “No.”

“Well, I just came from the garden, she wasn’t there either. Did you check the study? Other rooms?”

“Not yet,” He sighed. “Wait, maybe she went to her brother? Your wife had someone calling her from her phone earlier.”

Your phone? He recalled Heeseung visiting the bakery. He felt knot in his stomach. The fear he felt when he woke up and found the woman was not by his side returned.

“I’ll be out for a while,” He said and rushed to his car, got in, and drove away.

—

“I have talked to a friend who’s willing to lend us the money we need. If you’re still worried about that bastard’s check, I’ll go top the bank tomorrow and—”

“It’s not that simple, Hee,” You whispered. You were both on the sofa in your living room, having a serious conversation. You felt a chill at what your brother wanted to happen.

“What do you mean?” You sighed and looked straight at him. “Do you think Sunghoon would just agree to that?” He wasn’t able to respond. “He wouldn’t, Heeseung.”

Heeseung ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and leaned back on the sofa. “Then I think it would be better if you took some time away from him,” He suggested.

You shook your head. “I think it would only make things worse if I did that.”

“Then what do you think would work?” You couldn’t answer. None of your plans had worked. Reconciling the father and son. Gradually avoiding your husband. None of it happened.

“Look, y/n. I just want you safe. I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s why I’m doing this,” He said, holding your hand. “I’ll face Sunghoon myself. I’m the reason for all of this.”

You gave him a sad smile. “Liar.” He paused. “We both know who’s really at fault for all of this.”

He tightened his grip on your hand.“Y/n, I don’t want you thinking like that.”

You sighed. “Let me handle this, Hee. Let me leaver with Sunghoon to Japan, and there I’ll figure some things out.”

His eyes narrowed and he let go of your hand. “Are you seriously telling me that you’re really going with him?”

You looked down. “Honestly, I’m still hesitant about it. I’ll try to convince him later not to leave. But if he insists, maybe it’s better if I go with him for now.” You pleaded with him to understand. “I just can’t leave him.”

He stood up abruptly, clenching his fists.

“No.” It was a firm command. “You stay out of this. I’ll confront that piece of shit right now, and I’ll resolve this mess with him.”

“I’m here, Heeseung,” You and your brother almost simultaneously turned towards a cold and low voice. You gaped as you saw Sunghoon there.

He looked at you. “We’re going home, Y/n.” He was about to reach out to you but your brother’s large figure blocked his way as he stood up.

“Over my dead body.” You grabbed his arm.

“Hee, don’t start.”

“He was the one who started all of this!” Heeseung exclaimed. “And for what? Revenge? Only children would think of—” You gasped as Sunghoon lunged forward and delivered a punch at your brother’s face.

Heeseung slumped to the floor due to the impact. Your eyes widen as you saw Heeseung’s lip split open. You rushed to him and hurriedly wiped the blood from the corner of his lips. He stood up, his eyes glaring with retaliation for the punch he received from Sunghoon.

“Stop it!” You shouted, trying to intervene to break them up. When they didn’t budge, you raised your voice louder. “Enough!”

That seemed to snap them out of it, reminding them of your presence. Both men were panting heavily, and you could feel the tension thick in the air around them. You faced your brother. “We’re leaving. I’m going with him.”

He grabbed your arm. “No!”

“Please,” Your voice trembled in plea. Reluctantly, he let go and gave Sunghoon a sharp look. You called a helper and instructed them to bring a first aid kit. “Treat your wounds, Hee. Take care.” You hugged him.

You felt your husband tug on you. “Let’s go,” He whispered. He guided you out of the house towards his car. Heeseung didn’t follow, which you were thankful for. Upon reaching the car, Sunghoon spoke.

“Don’t try to run away from me like that.” He looked at you intently. He seemed to claim all the good looks in the world because even in dim light, he still looked godly… whit a bruised lip. You reached for his face.

“You have a bruise. Let’s hurry home so we can treat that,” You said.

He grasped your hand. “Answer me. Tell me you won’t run away from me.” His intense gaze made you feel like you were burning. You nodded slightly in response.

“Say it, damn it!”

“Sunghoon, I...” He held both sides of your face and gently forced you to meet his eyes.

“Is it really that hard? To be tied to me? To stay with me and remain by my side?” Your lips parted as you saw the desperation on Sunghoon’s face, as if his life depended on you staying.

“I promise I won’t hurt you. I won’t. I can’t”

“But you’re hurting my brother. And because of that, you’re also hurting me.” You don’t have the right to complain. You deserved the pain. But your brother?

He let go and sniffed the air. “Okay. You want me to stop hating on your brother? I can do that. I’ll do it for you.” He looked at you with a longing look. “You also said I should forgive my father? Fine, I’ll do that too.” You couldn’t speak. What was he trying to do to you? He reached out and held your palm, then clasped your hands.

“If I do all that, will you stay by my side? Will you promise not to leave me? Will you stay with me forever?”

“I realized that I was blinded by anger. Sohyun wouldn’t want me to blame the man she loved forever.” Joy enveloped your heart. It felt so good to hear your husband’s words. You never expected that he would be willing to do everything just to keep you by his side. That he’s finally ready to set his anger aside. But there’s one thing he didn’t know. And Sunghoon would hate you more if you keep it hidden from him much longer. You should have confessed earlier.

How will he believe you now? Even if you tell him that you love him…

Your eyes stung with tears. You shook your head. “No… You don’t understand.”

Sunghoon lifted your face with a finger, wiping your tear that traced a path down your cheek. “What do I not understand?” He asked, his voice soft yet urgent. “What is it, Y/n?”

You could only shake your head, your tears falling relentlessly. Sunghoon enveloped you in a warm embrace, offering you solace in the cold, dark night.

“Please, Y/n,” He murmured, his voice trembling with emotions. “Just promise me that you won’t run away. That we’ll always be together. That’s all I want to hear. Please.”

You continued to sob into his chest. Truth be told, you wanted the same thing—to be together forever, to be happy in each other’s arms. But that was impossible. It was never going to happen. You sniffled and gathered all your courage. Gently, you pushed him away from you. You shut your eyes tightly before looking straight into his eyes.

“It wasn’t my brother’s fault that Sohyun died. It was mine.” Your throat ached, and the words seemed to resist coming out. “It was only right that I pay for what I did. So it’s not fair that you blamed Heeseung for what happened…”

You saw Sunghoon’s expression change. “What are you talking about, y/n?” This isn’t your fault.”

You stood firm You knew you had to stick to the truth, no matter how painful. “It was all my idea. It was my decision that led to Sohyun’s death. I can’t let Heeseung suffer for something he didn’t do.”

A mixed of shock and confusion crossed Sunghoon’s face. “It wasn’t Heeseung’s fault that your sister is no longer with us. It was my fault. The anniversary surprise, the candle lit dinner—” You gulped, and tears streamed down your cheeks again. “Those were all my idea.” You roughly wiped away the tears, but no matter what you did, they kept falling.

“If I hadn’t suggested all that, Sohyun would still be here. You wouldn’t be left alone. Everything would be okay.” Your chest tightened as you confessed everything to him. “Sunghoon… I… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

You could barely breathe from crying, and through it all, Sunghoon just stood there in front of you. This must be it. He must be hating you now and cursing you to death. You wouldn’t be surprised if he suddenly told you to rot in hell. You turned away to head back to your house. You had your answers. You didn’t need to leave because Sunghoon wouldn’t want you anywhere with him anymore.

You calmed yourself and dried the tears to see your way, but a tight hug from behind stopped you in your tracks. The embrace was so firm, you could barely breathe. You cried even harder. Sunghoon turned you around and you buried your face in his chest.

‘I’m so sorry. I never thought it would all end in an accident.”

He comforted you. “Heeseung’s surprise for my sister was your idea. That’s all it was. You and Heeseung didn’t mean her any harm. Both of you just wanted to make her happy.” You pulled away slightly and looked up at him. There wasn’t a trace of hatred on his face.

“Aren’t you going to yell at me? Sohyun died because of me.” At that, you started crying again. He sighed and tried to calm you down.

“Weren’t you listening? To be honest, ever since you came back to in to my life, my anger had gradually disappeared. I think I used what happened as an excuse to keep you by my side. I could never hate you.”

“But—” He silenced you with a kiss.

“I’m sure my sister is happy up there. I know that because I felt like she’s watching over me from there. Sohyun never wanted me to live a miserable life.” He gently stroked your hair.

“She once told me that I should stop shutting myself from the world. And when she died, it felt like my anger was the only thing keeping me alive. Until I saw you again. You were so bright that I wanted to put everything behind me. And I remembered that my sister told me I always needed to stay in the light.” He carefully caressed your cheek. After a very long time, you saw the man you loved once again.

“And you are my light, Y/n. you’re my very own brand of sunshine. The moment I saw you again, I felt alive. You complete the happy days I once had.”

If this was a dream, you wished to be a princess who had slept for a long time. And if possible, you hoped never to wake up. If this was real, why did it seem so unbelievable? You had expected a mad beast with eyes full of hate, not a handsome prince with eyes filled with love.

Oh God. Is this real?

“Yes, Y/n. This is real.” You hadn’t realized that you voiced your question out.

“But, Sunghoon. I know how much Sohyun’s death affected you. I don’t want you to hide that from me just because you promised not to hurt me. Whatever makes you feel better—”

“It’s true that my sister’s death nearly killed me. But you…” He paused, searching for the right words.

“The thought of another person I love frightened the hell out of me. If I lose you, I know I won’t be able survive.”

You embraced him tightly. “I won’t leave you.”

“Do you really accept me as your husband, Y/n? Are you ready to be with me for always? Will you love me too?” He looked deep into your eyes.

You wanted to say yes. You wanted to tell him that you already loved him. That you have loved him for a long time. Your gaze shifted towards your house, where you saw your brother watching the both of you. He nodded, as if giving you the encouragement to do what you truly wanted. Slowly, a smile spread across your face. You looked up to Sunghoon, who was gazing at you with complete love. Tears pooled in your eyes again, but this time, they were tears of joy.

“I love you, Park Sunghoon.” You finally managed to say. “I’ve always loved you. Even when our paths separated, that love never faded. I still love you.” Sunghoon let put a breath, his eyes closing briefly.

He hugged you tight and kissed the top of your head. “Thank you. Thank you for loving me.”

You returned the warm embrace to your husband. “I still feel guilty about Sohyun,” you sighed.

“Stop it,” He scolded you gently. “She loves us, and I know she wants us to be happy. There’s nothing to worry about now, baby.” Right. Sohyun had been a kind and loving sister top Sunghoon. She treated you like a sibling too. She genuinely loved your brother. She wouldn’t want anyone of you to be sad.

Under the moonlight, you promised to love the man you promised to be with for a lifetime with all your heart. You would give him the light he needed and all the love you could offer. You would be together for an eternity. And it would start now.

“I love you so much. Y/n.” You heard him whisper. You tightened your hug on Sunghoon even more.

“I love you.”

It was supposed to be rainy afternoon according to the weather report last night. But the weather seemed to be cooperating with them because not a single dark cloud marred the sky. You wondered how it would feel to live in a world where there was no sadness and pain; where only the warmth of love and happiness enveloped you.

Then you realized that in this world, one need all those sufferings to appreciate the beauty of life. You should face your fears and endure trials to become a better person. You smiled as you looked back and saw your husband leaning against the tree where you were taking shelter.

Sunghoon is a great example of someone consumed by darkness, yet learning to return to the colorful world. Well, all of you went through some tough times, but you believed it was Sunghoon who suffered the most. You approached him, locking eyes. You sucked in your breath. He still looked dark and powerful, but that was just because of his striking physical appearance. The dark aura that used to surround him was gone.

“We need to get going, you know?” You reminded with a smile.

He held your waist and pulled you closer to him. “I know, baby. I was just doing some reminiscing.”

“Like when you tripped here while we were chasing after Sohyun and Heeseung?” you teased him. The corners of his lips lifted in to a smile.

“Very funny.” You grinned and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“So… Shall we go to Sohyun’s grave?” Before, his expression darkened whenever he remembered his sister, not it didn’t. He maintained a light demeanor. It was Sohyun’s death anniversary, and you planned to visit with your brother, Heeseung. The feud between the two men had been resolved.

“Yeah, I think we should go now. I want to catch Heeseung being dramatic.”

You wrinkled your nose. “How mean.” Sunghoon just grinned and kissed you quickly on the lips. You both started walking towards his car.

“You know what? My visits to my sister will be different now,” He said.

“What do you mean?”

“Before, whenever I would visit her, I always said I would seek revenge on those responsible for her loss.” He tightened his grip on your hand. “But today would be different because you’re with me, and Heeseung and I are okay. I used to visit her with a heavy heart, but this time, I would face her with a smile.”

“And she must be smiling back at you,” You said happily.

“I know.” Sunghoon stopped walking and looked at you with lovingly.

“Thank you. Thank you for being my light, y/n.” You were momentarily taken aback but quickly returned the smile to your lips.

“I always got you. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[milkteahood]

a ghost for a knight

medieval au, chapter 2

chapter 1

Simon Riley x fem!reader

Summary: an ambush, or an organized crime almost gets you kidnapped

Slow burn romance, eventual smut, age gap (reader is in her 20s/ Simon is in his late 30s/ early 40s)

Weeks turned into months and Simon became your shadow. Always there. As cold and dark as ever.

The loud thunderstorm is what awoke you in the middle of the night. Your face scrunched up at the noise, your eyes slowly opening. You blinked a few times before raising yourself up on your elbows.

“Can’t sleep?”

His voice almost made you jump.

“Holy— you scared me” you paused, fist clutched over your chest “I’m still not used to this”

“You will be eventually”

“Or you could get out of my room”

“No”

“Are you even comfortable in that chair?”

“No”

An exasperated sigh left your lips as you allowed yourself to fall on your back. Simon started sleeping in your room ever since your little try to get away moment. If you could even call what he was doing sleep. He was always awake before you and if you woke up for any reason throughout the night, he seemed to always be awake for that too.

***

As the morning sun broke through the window, so did the smell of rain. Your maids were in the room, preparing your clothing, opening your windows and making sure everything was in check before waking you up. Simon was just outside the door. The only times he really left you alone was when you needed to change or bathe.

“Goodmorning” you said to him as you stepped out of your room.

“Goodmorning, your highness” he responded “what do you have in plan for the day?”

“Literature and music classes”

The conversation slowly faded as you were walking down the hallway. You got more used to Simon, as he did to you. The only thing that worried you was the quality of sleep he was getting, so while changing you mentioned to the maids that you wish for a second bed be prepared in your room, in the place of the chair Simon used.

***

After your classes, you found yourself in the library, enjoying a book while Simon was reading one too. He was hesitant at first but you mentioned how creepy it would be to just have him stare at you the whole time.

“Say Simon”

“Yes?”

“How was your life before all this?”

“Before becoming a knight of your guard?”

“Both”

“It was difficult” he said, raising his nose from his book. His brown eyes pierced through yours, almost as if he was begging you to stop asking questions. He couldn’t say no to you, so just please. Shut up. You got the hint.

It was very difficult without your daily activities. You were dying to sneak back into the catacombs of the castle. That was one place you could be alone, and one place no one would ever judge you. But you were scared. You didn’t want Simon to tell your dad about it.

It wouldn’t even matter you thought to yourself. This man is my prison as is.

Simon wasn’t very talkative and you really felt like your whole existence was a pain to him. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the same. Still, growing fond of him wasn’t something you thought you’d experience. You also knew your feelings were misplaced. He wasn’t here because he wanted to. He was here because he was told to. His protective nature over you was nothing more than his need to stay alive. But still, you wondered. How can a man be so caring and not feel anything? You frowned at your own thoughts. Better said, how could you develop feelings for one of your guards. Did you really care about him? Or did you just love the attention. The attention your father never gave you, for he was always too busy running a kingdom.

“Your highness? Are you alright?”

His voice brought you back to reality. You didn’t know how long you have been out of it.

“Yes. Just lost in my thoughts”

He didn’t respond. Of course he didn’t. Your feelings weren’t exactly a priority. As long as your body was safe, your heart didn’t matter.

The rest of the day you didn’t really speak much. But Simon didn’t really seem to mind. On the contrary, he found a break from all your rambling quite refreshing. On the other hand, you were fuming. Mostly with yourself for allowing such thoughts to plague your mind. But could you really help it? Simon was always there. And he was the first person to not take your shit. Everyone else would jump off the castle if you ordered it so. But he would look straight into your eyes and tell you to quit being a brat.

A soft knock brought you back to reality. One of your servants walked in, bowed and began to speak.

“Your highness, the king is summoning you in the throne room” he spoke facing the floor.

“I see” you said and stood up. You didn’t look at the servant. Maybe if you did you would’ve seen he was not a man you recognized. He was not your servant at all.

Simon accompanied you to the throne room, but he stood outside, waiting for you. He wondered what it was all about but did not care too much.

Then, from inside the room, your scream pierced through his head.

“NO NO! WHO ARE YOU! GET AWAY FROM ME”

Simon burst into the room just in time to see these strange men trying to take you away. The king was no where in sight.

“You’re going to be very valuable to an enemy kingdom” one man burst into laughter “who would’ve thought infiltrating this castle would be so damn easy” another snorted.

They didn’t see Simon, they were too busy celebrating their victory. So they also didn’t see when he took his sword and cleaved a man’s head off. Time stood still, you were covered in the blood that spilled everywhere and the men’s eyes were wide. Quickly, they tried to compose themselves. They were many and he was just one man. So they thought it would be easy to take him down. But oh, just how wrong they were. One by one, they all fell, they blood and guts spilling everywhere. Yet Simon stood calm, breathing heavily, he looked at the dead bodies, eyes as cold and dark as ever. Just like a ghost.

When he finally turned to look at you, Simon saw just how scared you were. You were hyperventilating and covered in blood.

“It’s alright now, your highness. Let’s take you back to your room” he spoke, picking you up.

You clung onto him, face buried into the crook of his neck, shaking uncontrollably. He felt almost amused at your reaction, but there was also something else. Something he didn’t really feel before. Something he quickly pushed aside. No, it was improper to even allow such thoughts.

The only people Simon trusted at this moment were his men. And he gave them clear orders to find and execute every single intruder and the rat.

Once back in your room, Simon barely managed to peel you off of him.

“Your highness. I have to secure the door”

You let go and sat on your bed. Simon locked the door and made sure no one saw you enter.

“What do you think happened?”

“I don’t know. But somehow criminals managed to enter the palace”

“Do you think my father is ok?” you asked, hugging your knees to your chest

“I hope so. But you are my main priority for now, you highness” he responded, making your heart skip a beat.

“You should however change. We will be safe here” he said, and pointed to the room connected to your main chamber. It was a bathroom “do you.. know how to do it yourself? I apologize, even your maids are a risk for now”

“I’m not dumb, Simon. Yes I can bathe myself” you responded with a soft chuckle.

That was good, Simon thought to himself. At least you were starting to relax.

You emerged from the bathroom with wet hair and a more comfortable gown, but most importantly, you weren’t covered in blood anymore.

“You should rest up” he said to you “me and my men will figure it out in the meantime”

“I don’t want to be alone”

“You won’t be. I will stay here. I have my men to check the perimeters”

He helped you get in bed and just as he was about to turn away, you grabbed his hand, squeezing it.

“Yes?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Y/N”

He was waiting for you to continue.

“You can call me Y/N”

“I cannot”

“Yes. When it’s just us. You can”

If you wouldn't have paid attention, you would’ve missed the way his gaze softened ever so slightly.

“Alright then, get some rest then… Y/N” he said and gently stroked your hair after you let go of his hand.

.

.

.

tag list: @sushiumex

[yourfriendlyfanperson]

A Chemical Reaction Called Love

Chapter 1: A missing case in a small town

~Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!reader

~Summary: Being the daughter of Hawkins Middle School Science teacher, Scott Clarke, has its perks. Constantly having to explain things to 'King' Steve Harrington wasn't necessarily one of them but it was something you had gotten used to. He might not be the brightest guy but at least he tried, and you appreciated that. You had big plans for the future, but they might be forced to change thanks to a phone call...

~Warnings: Sensitive topics might be brought up so reader discretion is advised.

~Word Count: 3.3K

~Authors Note: Hey everyone! This is my first time posting my fanfics in tumblr, I have them in ao3 or w-tpadd usually, but I've wanted to post them in tumblre for a long time. If someone knows how to do the fancy chapter thing where you add the numbers at the top please let me know! Any support is very much appreciated! This fanfic is still in the works! You can find me on Ao3 as Lilpipsqueak and W-tpadd as friendlyfanperson!

~Narrator's POV~

"And to that, you need to add?"

"Hydrochloric acid," Y/n says turning to look at her dad as she remembers the answer, both of them walking through the car park of Hawkins Middle School as Y/n revised for her chemistry test which was in a couple of minutes. She always did well in her exams, especially her science ones, given the fact her dad was a science teacher so he always helped her out, but she still liked to revise before each exam.

"Great, you're all set for the exam," He tells her with a smile.

"Thanks for helping me out dad," She says.

"Morning Mr. Clarke!" Dustin shouts as he walks up to them, Lucas behind him, "Morning Y/n"

"Good morning Dustin, Lucas, how are you boys doing today?" He asks them.

"We're okay," Lucas tells him.

"Where's Mike?" Y/n asks them, knowing the three, though usually four boys, always arrived at school together.

"He should be here soon," Dustin told her, "What are you studying?" He asks.

"Chemistry, I have an exam first period, I should probably get going," She tells them with a smile, "See you later kids, be careful, and I'll meet you at your classroom after school dad"

"Good luck with the exam, honey," Her dad says as she walks away.

"Bye Y/n!" The two boys add waving at her.

She takes out her headphones and puts them on as she starts listening to "Oh, Pretty Woman" by Roy Orbinson, walking to Hawkins High School and focusing on the lyrics. She looked back at the boys who were happily talking with her dad, and all she could think about was the 4th member of their party, Will Byers, who had gone missing yesterday. She knew him really well, after all, she was always helping Joyce by looking after him while she and Jonathan worked, he was like the little brother she never had. When she heard the news about Will's disappearance she was devastated, she couldn't imagine Will running away or getting himself in some kind of trouble, but she also couldn't imagine him getting kidnapped by anyone in Hawkins, sure you had your usual creeps like every other town, but none that would ever do such a thing. All she could do, for now, was help around with the investigation and stay alert for anything weird so he could hopefully be found soon.

"Jonathan!" Y/n shouts as she sees him walking to school in front of her, she pauses the song taking off her headphones and walks towards him.

"Y/n, hey," He says, looking more tired than usual.

"Have you heard anything?" She asked him, hoping for some good news.

"Nothing yet, I'm going to check and see if my dad has something to do with it though I doubt it, he never cared about us" Jonathan explains to her as they start walking towards the main doors.

"Well if you need anything at all, just let me and my dad know okay?"

"Okay, I'll make sure to let you know," He says.

Y/n smiles at him, she looks down and notices a paper in his hand.

"What's that?" She asks him.

"Oh, just a missing poster my mom and I made, I'm going to put it in the school news board so people can keep a lookout," He tells her handing her the poster.

She takes it looking down at it, 'Have you seen me?' is written in capital letters on the top of the page with two pictures of Will under it, the general information about him and the clothes he was wearing when he went missing.

"We'll find him, I'm sure of it, Will's smart, he'll be okay," She tells Jonathan handing the paper back to him, hoping that the words coming out of her mouth will come true.

"I hope so, I really hope so," He says as they walk into the school, "I'll see you later"

"Yeah, I'll see you around" She adds waving goodbye at him as he goes over to the news board.

Y/n puts her headphones back on as she starts walking down the corridor, she sees Nancy and Barbara standing with none other than Steve Harrington, Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins, which she found extremely surprising, after all, Nancy and Barbara are not popular, at all, so it was strange to see them together, she had heard rumours though that Steve was going out with Nancy, so she guessed they must be true because there's no other reasonable option for them to be even near each other. Y/n gets along well with everyone really, she's nice to people and helps them out during lessons so luckily no one had ever really found a reason to bully her, which allowed Y/n to get through her so far 3 years of high school without a problem.

She talked with Nancy sometimes, they weren't necessarily friends but they were more than classmates, especially given the fact she knew the Wheelers quite well. Barbara and Y/n had interacted before but they didn't really talk, she got the feeling Barbara didn't like her very much, but she could never figure out why. She never really spoke to Tommy or Carol except when they needed help during class, but they didn't bother her so she didn't really care about them.

And then there was Steve Harrington, Y/n had known him since middle school, growing up in a small town means you pretty much grow up with everyone you go to high school with, in middle school they didn't really talk, Y/n had her friends and Steve had his, it wasn't really until the start of sophomore year when they started sitting next to each other in science that they started talking. Steve isn't the brighter student, but he has parents that have high expectations for him, so he needs to do good in school, lucky for him he sat next to Y/n. The first thing he said to her when she sat next to him on that first day of sophomore year was "Clarke you're smart, help me out here" and she did exactly that.

Did Y/n think Steve was a bad person? Not really, he had always been kind to her and he actually put effort during lessons when she helped him, so she appreciated that. Did she think the rumours about him were true? Yeah, Steve is famously known around the school not only for being the King of Hawkins high school, but also for making all the girls fall in love with him, and sleeping with them, and as far as Y/n knew that was true, most of the girls she knew had liked him at some point, most except her, and her best friend, Robin Buckley. Robin had an entirely different reason for not liking him than Y/n did though, Robin couldn't like Steve, Y/n on the other hand technically could, she just didn't see anything special about him, sure he's good looking, she accepts that, but he's a bit of an asshole to some people, he's way too popular and has a huge ego, and she didn't really like that.

"Oh, god, that's depressing" She heard Steve say as she walked past them, she knew they were talking about Jonathan, he was known around as a freak, but those weren't news to Y/n.

"Should we say something?" Nancy asked them.

"I don't think he speaks," Carol told her, chuckling.

"How much you wanna bet he killed him?" Tommy asked.

Y/n stopped walking, listening to what he said, she was a nice person, and she was calm, but like any decent human being, she had her limits.

She turned around to look at them as she opened her mouth ready to snap at Tommy, but before she could say anything, Steve pushed Tommy shaking his head.

"Shut up," He said, not much, the minimum actually, but his tone did show that even he knew Tommy had gone too far, she knew that in comparison to her telling Tommy something, he would at least listen to Steve, and so she decided to keep on walking away as she put her music back on.

Sometimes Y/n asked herself how things would be if Steve didn't hang out with assholes like Tommy and Carol, she believed, from what she knew and saw, that in comparison to them Steve was actually a good person, which she supposes isn't something necessarily hard to be, but from what she had learned about Steve from sitting next to him in the last year and a half, she could tell he was actually a kind person with a good heart when he was away from them, and she guessed he had probably ended up being the way he was because of the friends he has.

"Earth to Y/n!" She snapped out of her thoughts as she looked up, seeing none other than Robin in front of her, "Morning weirdo"

"Morning freak, how are you doing?" She asked Robin, pausing her music and taking off her headphones, stopping at her locker and opening it.

"I am actually doing pretty decent today, which is unusual given the fact I have a stupid math exam first period, and I also have to seat next to Jim, but I guess I shouldn't complain about being in a good mood" She explains to Y/n, rambling, as usual, thought Y/n didn't mind, she actually enjoys listening to Robin over share.

"Well, regardless of the math exam and having to seat next to Jim I'm glad you're having a good morning," Y/n tells her smiling as she takes out her books and puts them in her locker.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm alright, just worried about the chemistry exam and Will," She tells her closing her locker and turning around to fully look at Robin.

"I hope they find him soon," She tells her, worried, even though Robin had never spoken to Will she knew he was Y/n's friend, and she also knew no kid deserves to go through the trauma of going missing.

The school bell starts ringing, Y/n and Robin look at each other with worry.

"Time for the stupid exam," Robin says as they start walking to their classrooms.

"We've got this, it's just common sense," Y/n tells her trying to make sure she doesn't get too stressed.

"Right, just common sense" Robin repeats, not believing a thing, "I'll see you at recess, good luck, love you"

"Love you too, good luck" Y/n tells her as she walks away and into her chemistry room.

She walks inside the classroom and takes a seat at her table, putting her bag on the floor as she takes out her chemistry book, she knows Mr. Thompson gives them some time to do some last minutes studying, so she can at least look over things one last time.

"You could've phrased it differently," She says turning to look at Steve walking over to his desk.

"What?" He asks looking at her confused.

"What you said about Jonathan, well, more like the way you said it, about him putting up a poster being depressive, it actually is, his brother is missing and his family have already been having a hard time, it's not really something to joke about" She explains to him.

"Oh, right, well I'm sorry," He says, and to Y/n's surprise she can actually tell he means it and is being serious, "Today's the exam right?" Steve asks as he takes a seat next to her.

"Yeah, did you study?" She asks him.

"You'll be proud to hear I actually did, so I think I'm going to do pretty well today," He says smirking at her, taking out his notebook.

"Well I am proud, I can't believe you actually studied"

"Neither can I, it was only for like an hour though so don't be too proud," He tells her chuckling.

"Right of course, that I am not surprised about" She adds smiling at him.

The class ended up having 5 minutes to study, which were all taken by Steve asking Y/n a bunch of questions regarding his notes and the things he hadn't understood, but at least she was able to explain things to him before the time ran out.

The exam lasted an hour, for Y/n it was an hour of her just answering the questions, which were surprisingly easy, but for Steve, it was an hour of either trying to remember what he just read or looking over at Y/n with puppy eyes trying to get her to help him up, and she did, for like two questions, the hardest ones in the test, because she knew that giving him most of the answers would help no one, not even him.

Once the time was up Y/n and Steve, along with the rest of the class, stood up and left the paper on Mr. Thompson's desk.

"How do you think you did?" Steve asks Y/n as they walked back to their desks and grabbed their bags.

"I think I did pretty good, how about you?"

"I actually think I did decent, but we'll have to see," He tells her as they walk out of the classroom.

"I guess we will," She tells him.

"Thanks again for helping me out with the two questions, I really didn't understand them"

"It's alright, they were a bit hard and took away a lot of points, I'll see you next lesson Harrington," She tells him, as she starts turning around to go to her next class.

"Yep, see you later, Einstein"

Einstein, Steve's famous nickname for Y/n, he came up with it after she started helping him in science, he called her Einstein for two reasons; The first one being the fact that in his eyes she was extremely smart, like genius smart, she didn't personally think she was that good at science, but she knew she was better than average, or at least better than Steve; And the second reason was that Albert Einstein was the only scientist Steve actually knew something about, because if he really wanted to give her a nickname that actually made sense, he would've called her Marie Curie, given the fact Y/n was better at chemistry than physics.

The rest of the day went by smoothly, just like most. Y/n had her lessons, then her breaks, and talked with Robin, it was a simple day, which was all she could really ask for.

"And I mean he doesn't even like her, I don't understand what she can see in him" Robin complained as they walk out of the school.

"I mean most girls probably like him based on looks purely, I bet most haven't even had a proper conversation with him, and come on Robin you can do better than wannabe Madonna anyway," She tells her.

Wanna be Madonna is their nickname for Tammy Thompson, they couldn't just go around the school talking about the girl Robin liked without a worry in the world, someone could hear and that would just be chaos.

"I guess, I mean she's just so pretty, and don't know what but there's just something about her that I find hypnotic almost" Robin explains as they walk to the bus.

"I mean she's pretty, but let's be honest how likely is it for her to be anything else but straight?" She asked Robin, whispering the last part.

"Not likely, like at all, god I'm going to be single forever," She said moving her hands to cover her face in defeat.

"No you won't, Robin I guarantee you that one of these days you're going to meet the girl of your dreams and we'll look back at this moment and laugh about your crush on her, trust me," Y/n says moving her hand to Robin's shoulder.

"I hope so, but we'll see, I'll see you tomorrow, take care weirdo," Robin says as she gets on the bus.

"Goodbye freak" Y/n shouts at her walking away to the middle school.

She sees Dustin and Lucas rushing out of the school towards their bikes, in a panic.

"Hey! What's the rush?" She asks them.

"I-umm, nothing, it's nothing, don't worry" Dustin shouts as they get their bikes and pedal away.

"Well that was weird" She mumbles walking inside the school.

She made her way through the corridor and knocked on her dad's classroom as she walked in.

"Hey dad," She says smiling.

"Hey honey, how did your test go?" He asks her, organising some papers on his desk.

"I think it went well, we get the results next lesson"

"Well, I'm sure you did wonderfully," He tells her.

"Hopefully, how were the boys feeling today?" She asks, taking a pile of the papers.

"Well Mike didn't come to school, his mom called to say he wasn't feeling well, he seems really worried about Will" He explains to her as he gets his bag, grabs the other pile of papers, and starts walking out of the room.

"I can't even imagine how worried they must be, I really hope they find him, have they heard anything?"

"Well apparently Earl saw Will, so I'm going around with some others to help look for him," He tells her, locking the door behind him.

"Can I go? I want to help, I don't want to sit at home doing nothing"

He looked at her unsure, ever since Will's disappearance he had been worried sick about some lunatic going around Hawkins, he was worried about something happening to Y/n, but he also knew it was better to let her do things before she found a way to do them herself.

"Sure, but you'll be with me the whole time, okay?"

"You got it chief" She smiled.

~~~~

"So, what exactly do we need to look for? Apart from a small boy, of course," Y/n asks her dad as they walk through the woods.

The evening was a cold one, but it was early November so it was to be expected, the woods were covered in darkness, the only thing giving them light being the flashbacks they had. There were at least fifty people around looking for Will, so hopefully, they could find something.

"Well, we need to look out for anything that might give us a clue to someone being around here, maybe blood, some clothes, an object of his" He explains looking around the ground for anything.

Y/n nods looking around as well but stops when she sees a small hole, she wasn't sure if it was part of the sewers or if it led somewhere else, so she kneeled down in front of it as she looked inside, the space was small but big enough for a small kid to go through it.

"Will!" She shouts, she waits for a response, but there's none, and then she sees it, a ripped-out piece of clothing.

"Dad! Dad! I found something!" She says, Scott immediately turns to her kneeling down.

"What is it?" He asks.

"Look, it's like someone came out from here and ripped a piece of their shirt, don't you think?" She questions.

"Maybe," He says, he takes his whistle and alerts the Chief of police Hopper that they found something.

"Hey, what do you got?" Hopper asks as he runs up to them.

"Not sure," Scott tells him.

"I found this, in there," Y/n tells him, handing him the ripped piece of shirt.

"No way a kid can crawl through there" Officer Powell says, looking inside.

"I don't know, a scared enough one might, his brother said he was good at hiding," Hopper told him.

"And he's small, I could see him fitting through there" Y/n adds, "Do you think it could be Will's?"

"I don't know kid, we'll have to see," Hopper says standing up and walking away.

Thank you for reading!

[sameschmidtdiffname]

heyyyy can I pls req something where Mike tries to make it up to the reader after he says something wrong in their 1st fight as a couple? like “I don’t want to lose you” as an apology and they get back together or something along those lines? tysm I really enjoy ur work :))

But of course!!!

Wanting, Waiting

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: Overworked and underfed, you'll go to sleep once some decent work is complete. However, a late night turns into a day long fight.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no gender specific pronouns for Reader, pre-established relationship, argument, cursing, Reader and Mike both got some shit going on, hints of an eating disorder, overworking, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions of: suicide/death, depression, drugging, and kidnapping. Vulnerability is gross.

Notes: 'Slip' walked so this could run full speed into a brick wall. I feel as though I may have redeemed myself.

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

This page is mocking me.

The hour is late. I stopped checking the clock around 2:00 A.M., and there's a cup of cold coffee right next to me on this table, several rings on the inside from where the coffee had been left sitting far too long. It's cheap, the flavor sticking to my teeth in a way that settles my lips into a slight grimace as I try to convince my hand to move my pen across the just as cheap notebook paper that has been sitting in front of me since I came home.

Come on. It's words. What the fuck is hard about this?

'It's not hard if you can actually get your head out of your ass and do something,' I think to myself. Not helping.

I have an irritating collection of drafts. Oh yes, I can start them and I can certainly plan out the works before me. But actually writing is somehow impossible, and even though I can feel how thick the block is in my mind, preventing me from communicating my feelings properly, I just can't get break myself out of it.

Come on. Finish one draft. Then everything will click together for the rest.

For the past few weeks it's been just like this. Come home, sit down with projects, and try. But no matter what I do, I just can't focus. It's as though my head simply won't allow it. And this house, quite frankly, isn't helping. It's admittedly unsettling atmosphere, the loud noises born from nothing. It's as though I can feel the weight of the dead that used to sit at the same glass table as I watching me over my shoulder, pressing their non-existent weight against me, making my chest tight with pressure I cannot voice because that's not fair to the ones still here truly haunted by their presence. I'm just a guest who overextends their stay, quite frankly.

Just a page. Just write a page and you can get up for a moment. Ignore how loud the fridge is at something clunks inside of it.

A page. Get a page. Come on, you imbecile, how hard is a fucking pa-

"I thought we talked about this."

It's a testament to my mental state how high I manage to jump in my chair, my tired and over-caffinated heart set off to make me dizzy with over exertion from fear, turning to see who has come to voice their thoughts and damn us both with them.

"Mike," I sigh. I place a hand on my chest, rubbing slightly at the spot where I feel my heart pounding against my sore ribs. "Don't do that."

"Have you slept at all?" Mike asks disapprovingly. His arms are crossed against his chest, heavy bags under his eyes from another night of restless dreams. He can't sleep, I won't sleep. If he'd allow it, we could actually get shit done this time of day.

"A little," I lie. He's just worried. About everything. He always is, which at first was something I loved about him. And usually I still do. It's an admirable trait, to care about someone and love them so much it's only natural to fret over them, to check and make sure they're taken care of properly.

Except it makes me feel guilty.

"Oh yeah? What time?" He asks, narrowing his sleep swollen eyes at me.

Details. Fuck.

"Ah, uh- I don't know, I wasn't looking at the clock," I say sheepishly, trying to flash a disarming smile and make my own bags look like ones of bare minimum rest instead of self neglect. Mike's jaw tightens slightly.

"Oh?" He says in a dull voice that is not raised, yet managed to ring throughout the room nonetheless.

I hum affirmatively, pressing my lips together and fiddling with the cheap pen in my hands, glancing down at it in an attempt at trying not to give myself away.

"Yeah, I don't know. Just like, laid my head on the book and... y'know... drifted off for a couple hours," I try to say casually.

"Ah," he says as though that were enough, leaning now against the doorframe of the hallway, looking at the other wall as though the paint were interesting. "How long after I went to bed, do you think?"

Keep your breathing even. He can smell fear. "Like, a couple," I answer with a shrug.

"Or, like, not at all," he says, turning his head back to stare down at me with a glare.

"I slept," I insist.

"Bullshit. You give me unnecessary detail about your shits post mexican take-out, but you can't tell me what time you fell asleep?" He says accusingly.

"I was asleep! I'm sorry, do you want me to lie and give some time because you need it for some reason?" I ask evenly, shrugging as though to ask what he'd like me to say, blinking at him and adding a tired tinge of a croak to my voice to match his.

"I'm sorry?" He asks, eyes still in narrow slits yet somehow widening slightly, his leg uncrossing from over the other and planting firmly on the floor as he stands straight.

He's not that tall. Kinda short. But he looks much bigger when mad. Kinda like an iguana. I told him that one time and got bit. Jokingly, of course. It's not like he'd just reach over and sna- You know what? Irrelevant.

"I'm just saying," I say, starting to turn back to my notebook as though the conversation were finished.

"No-no, I'd like to hear that again," he says. I can hear his footsteps pad against the flat, tan carpet, my shoulders stiffening slightly as I train my decreasingly neutral eyes on the wrinkled, lined paper in front of me. "I liked the part where you made me sound like some insecure teenager for calling you out on your shit. Very original."

My lips press into a thin line, my grip on my pen tightening slightly.

"It's not that serious, Mikey-"

"Don't bullshit me, and don't use some cheap nickname as a cop out via sympathy," Mike snaps, standing now on the opposite side of the table, pressing his hands now against the glass surface that dirties so easily. Trust me, we've had to clean some prints off of it.

There's a line, and at some point I'm going to cross it. The problem is it's hidden under mental sand that makes me unclear of exactly where it is.

"Michael-"

"That's formal," he says, leaning forward on the table, his tone the same as an interrogating mother just waiting for the moment where no one will blame her for finally tearing you to shreds for what you've said to her outwardly innocent statements. A trap.

"I'm sorry, I thought you didn't like cheap nicknames?" I say, fighting the irritation in my voice, barely managing to remain even as I click my pen to begin writing.

"What's wrong with just Mike?" He asks. He reaches across the table, placing all five of his fingertips on my paper firmly and dragging it back across the table towards him, withholding it from me.

"Would you like me to use just Mike?" I ask.

"I'd like you to make eye contact while you lie through your fucken teeth," he says calmly, not moving as he continues to stare me down.

"Okay, Mike. And what exactly does my sleep schedule mean to you?" I ask slowly, trailing my eyes from his hand, slowly up his arm with pronounced veins and muscles, to the white cotton shirt that was two sizes too large and usually what he wore to sleep in, until I meet his dark and slightly hateful eyes.

"We had a conversation," he starts.

"A conversation," I repeat.

"About a month ago, do you remember?" He asks, cocking his head slightly in that way it does when we both know I'm not going to dare to answer with anything other than he wants.

"You ha-"

"I had a concern," he interrupts me, now looking down at the notebook and studying it as though it were a piece of fine art. "Which involved how absolutely awful your ability is to take care of yourself properly."

"Mike-"

"Shut. Up." Mike says with disturbing calmness. "I'm talking."

Fine.

"It's fucking rude."

Not saying it's not.

"Like your attitude when I try to just help you because clearly, you can't help yourself," he says, now slapping down the notebook to gesture at me as though it were obvious why he was concerned.

I could speak. I'd like to. And he gives me a long enough silence I could. But instead I decide I will simply give him the floor.

"No opinion on this?" He asks shortly.

"No," I say with a dismissive shrug. "You seem to have them for me."

Mike laughs at this statement, and if the sparkle in his eyes didn't seem to have the same dull shine as the glass table between us I'd feel a bit better about it. But I think there's a six foot hole in the backyard I just signed a lease on that makes his disturbingly convincing smile much more worrisome.

"You're funny," he says affectationately. "Get up."

"What?" I ask, blinking.

"Are you deaf now? Up," he says in irritation, beginning to cross back around the table. "This isn't a negotiation."

Before I can speak his hands dig in under my armpits, roughly pulling me to stand and bringing me close to his chest. I should have energy to fight back, I've only been sitting after all. But a physical confrontation would be too loud, first of all. Abby is asleep in her room, and I don't want to make a scene to wake the poor child. Number two, my bones are sore, my head is aching and I generally just do not feel well enough to protest. Physically.

"Put me down, you son of a bitch!"

Verbally, I'm fine.

"You're going to bed, that's final!"

"I have twelve drafts due that I have to get done or else this project-"

"You have four hours of sleep you can get before you have to take your candy ass to work in the fucken morning, or else I'm gonna beat it into you," he hisses directly in my ear, his breath cold and loud so close to me. Jesus, fuck. What did his parents feed him as a child? It shouldn't be this easy for him.

"Oh, I don't do what you want and now you threaten physical violence. Very mature," I mock, reaching out to grip the doorframe of Mike's bedroom, purely to piss him off.

"Save me the dramatics," he snaps in a whisper, wrapping one arm tighter around my waist and using the other to bat my hands away from the frame. I can tell he's genuinely trying not to hurt me, his grip on one wrist firm but careful.

"Just let me write one page," I try.

"That's what you said last night," he says, still trying to pull my hand away. My nails have dug into the frame, making it slightly harder. I can sense his irritation growing. "You got two hours of sleep."

"That's not going to kill me," I argue.

"You haven't slept for more than two hours in a week," he says.

One nail breaks against the frame, making me lose my grip and sending pain down my arm from the awkward angle at which the pressure had snapped it off. I wince slightly, which gives Mike slight pause as he checks my hand, but decides I'm alright before he begins dragging me towards the bed in earnest.

"Why is it so hard for you to just take care of yourself?" Mike asks in frustration.

"I take care of myself!" I say defensively. Mike drops me onto the bed, standing in front of me to prevent any new attempts at escape.

"No, you don't," he says, quiet but firm. "You sit and stare at your notebook and you don't do anything else if you can help it. You sleep for two hours, you go to work, you hardly eat, you don't have energy anymore." Mike's hands are planted firmly on his hips, his nostrils flailing as he tries to take collected, calm breaths. "I care about you. Why can't you?"

"Michael-"

"Stop!" Mike snaps, groaning and turning away from me with a sharp spin on his heel. He buries his hands in his hair in frustration, now pacing between the bed and the door, quietly shutting it so we can argue in peace.

"Why are you so upset?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"Because I don't want to see you live like this. I am concerned and every time I bring it up you dismiss me, you joke, you don't care and I hate that," Mike says, temporarily stopped in his tracks to point at me as he seethes. "I'm watching you waste away and you know what? I'm starting to think part of you likes it."

"Excuse me?" I say, astounded. I cross my arms in front of my chest, cocking my head at him in a way to say 'I dare you to repeat that.'

"You heard me," Mike says, taking a step towards me. "It's like you cannot for one iota of a second conceive of some world where taking care of yourself is a good use of your time. You work, and work until you've burned yourself out so horribly you rot in bed for a month. And unless you're staying here, I hear nothing from you. Not a call, not a fuck you or whatever. It's like you're punishing yourself."

"Now who's being dramatic?" I say.

"See? I can't even point this out without you getting defensive, which just shows you know you're in the wrong!" Mike turns away from me once more, resuming his path of restless walking.

"Why do you even care?" I ask genuinely. This makes him pause again, his glare once more returning to me as he mentally questions my intelligence.

"You know what, I don't know!" Mike snaps, his voice gaining volume. "You are insistent in this fucking- slow method suicide and I'm trying to help you, but you won't let me!"

"I never asked you to care," I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"I never asked to care!" Mike nearly shouts, leaning in close to my face and sneering at me.

This breaks the tension.

His face falls as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his eyes widening slightly like my own eyes. This comment shouldn't really sting. I shouldn't let it. But it does. And for a moment, I do. And he sees that clearly.

"... oh," I say softly, my arms relaxing and shoulders sagging ever so slightly as I drop his gaze, trying to shut off my emotions before they're obvious.

"I'm sorry," Mike says quickly, stumbling to his knees in front of me. "I didn't mean that-"

"It's fine," I say, trying to remain as blank as my pages on the kitchen table.

"I just said it to be hurtful," Mike says quickly, his hand reaching up to cup my face. I take it away, turning my head to the side slightly. There's a new chill in the air, one I can feel seizing my chest.

"You weren't," I say. "I'm going to sleep."

"Please, I don't want-"

"I'm going to sleep," I say forcefully, shoving him away and turning to begin undressing from my work clothes that I still wore. Mike is silent behind me, probably thinking, and I'm close to not being able to hold myself together anymore.

"Get out!" I snap, flinging my shirt at him in a rage and beginning to stand from the bed to chase him out. He doesn't need anymore prompt, quickly scurrying out from the room to wherever it is he'll sleep now. Probably on the couch even though there's another room down the hall. A self induced punishment. Knowing him he probably won't even allow himself a blanket or pillow, feeling the cold air fitting for his selfishness.

Good.

-

When I wake that morning, I can smell breakfast in the air. My stomach hurts from skipping meals, but I don't want to eat. First of all, I haven't worked for a meal. There's still plenty to be done with my drafts. And food is a good encouragement to keep working. Second, I didn't ask him to care. And he didn't ask for it either. There probably isn't enough for me, and if there is, he and Abby can debate between the two who will have it. I need to shower.

I take forever washing myself. If that's what you want to call it. It was moreso standing under hot water, letting it run cold until I couldn't stand it anymore and hoping my deodorant is able to do some heavy lifting today. I barely have enough time to get to work, passing silently by Mike and not turning when he calls my name, walking out the door as fast as I can without running.

He follows me outside, something shaking in a bag behind me. When I finally open my car door I'm forced to have my gaze in his direction, his body between the door frame and my car door, presenting me with a bag of lunch.

"Please eat," he begs, placing the bag in my lap unceremoniously and then quickly stepping away and shutting the door himself.

There's a small moment where he and I just share at each other through the glass, time slipping away without notice. He hasn't slept, he'll be late for work if he doesn't get dressed soon, and the bag on top of my thighs is warm. Fresh. A petty part of me wants to roll down my window and throw away the meal, back out of the drive way and let that fester in his mind out of hate. He thinks words can hurt? Actions are so much worse.

But there's something in his eyes. Defeated, resigned. Childlike is almost the word I could use. In front of my car is the 12 year old boy who tried to chase down his brother, the 18 year old who decided to sacrifice his life raising his little sister while saying goodbye to his parents, and the 27 year old man who's just trying to keep everything together.

I don't know what to say to this child. Or to the man.

So, with the turn of my key in the ignition, I don't.

-

It's late when I come home. When the manager had asked me to stay late I almost called Mike to break the silence and tell him this. But there was still a part of me that didn't care whether or not he knew. Really, I didn't have to return home tonight. I could go back to my apartment and just let him rot in bed the way he claims I do. How could he say such a thing, anyways? I rot in bed? What about the days I've walked into the house and he hasn't slept all week, where he's claiming he's trying to kick his medication and he'll get the hang of it soon. Where his sister is eating every meal almost burnt because he can't think straight enough to remember time. Where I've had to coax, beg, demand of him that he just takes a pill because he's laying on the side of the bed, small and curled in on himself, dead eyed and obviously tired but still not sleeping. One time I slipped it into his food. And I felt awful. Do not think for a moment I wanted to do that. There was a betrayel in his eyes when sleep began to overtake him. I hoped he wouldn't notice, but he must've. Some tell in the drugs effect that made him aware his rest was not voluntary. But I didn't care. I stroked his hair through the night, and I'll do it again. He could hate me however long he needed to, he just needed sleep first.

The irony still hasn't struck me when I walk through the door of his house, well past dinner, Abby in the bath. The door was left unlocked, which is unusual for this time of night. Mike jumps from the couch the minute I open the door, standing with his hands by his side anxiously pulling at the edge of his oversized sweater.

Everything's oversized with him. The thought occurs to me that his father was slightly bigger.

"Don't leave me," he says quietly, his voice small and pathetic like him. But I don't say that with hate.

"I just got home," I say. "Be a bit odd to leave again."

I try a smile, but it's artificial and we both know it's only for his comfort. It doesn't touch him, his eyes glassy and lips slightly parted the same way a child's is when they're trying to breathe as their sinuses spring to life in wake of forming tears.

"I didn't mean it," he says, still standing in the same place. If I was a better person I'd probably run to him. But I'm not.

If I were a better person, I'd say I believe him. But I don't. And suddenly my throat is swollen with hurt, my own bottom lip is sticking out and now we're both trying not to cry because this is so overly taxing. We're adults but emotions are hard. Vulnerability is hard. It is a damnation that we both detest, both avoid. In better states we would joke about this, would laugh and tease the other for not having the emotional capability to voice our thoughts. But we're not. So we don't. And now we're crying openly in the off-putting, attempted to look cozy living room that we can never fully relax in.

"I don't wanna lose you," he says between small hiccups, hands now balled into fists that he buries under opposite armpits, shifting his weight so that he doesn't look so small. His glances bounce between me and the hallway table, never fixing on either of us as he tries to state his mind like an adult. "I've barely had you."

In my heart there has been a constant ache, hurt flowing and pumping through my veins like the blood that ran cold last night at his hurtful words. His apologetic words make the ache somehow worse.

"I don't mean to be a burden to you," I say softly, feeling a small, stray tear break the fluid barrier of my waterline to race down my cheek, allowing a pathway to the fatter drops that threaten to quickly follow.

Mike's face shifts, stepping towards me and holding out his arms.

"No, never," he says just as soft, trying to comfort me. I freeze as he approaches, my body stiffening as I try to swallow the lump and convince myself that I can survive his touch. His touch that I normally crave the moment I'm around him, that I seek in the dark of night even when the bed is overheating, that I'd go insane without.

"I've never asked you to care," I say, voice breaking and tears rolling freely now.

"I know," he says into my neck, which is wetting as he shakes around me, his grasp firm and careless of whether or not it's too much.

"I don't mean to cause problems. I just...." I don't know what I mean, how I wish to finish the statement. If I was clever, I could. If I was clever, I wouldn't even be in this problem to begin with.

"I'm just scared," he chokes out, his breathing horrible as he struggles to keep his crying from being obvious. "You look sick all the time and I don't want that."

He's told me the story. His mother wasting away, thinning and slipping, starving and dying. How he'd returned home to a baby wailing in her crib as their mothers body lay in a pool of blood he never really got out of the carpet. He lied to me initially when I saw it the first time, said it was wine. It wasn't until we had a few glasses ourselves that his eyes glazed over and he told me. It was disturbing how neutral he kept himself to the subject. A habit he'd developed much too long ago to break.

"Mike-"

"I try, and I try and if something doesn't give soon I'm gonna fucking lose it," he sobs into my skin, arms tightening around me.

"If what doesn't give?" I ask softly, trying to pull him away to look into his eyes. But he doesn't budge, sobbing a little bit harder and gripping a little bit tighter. He doesn't respond, simply shaking as he breathes heavily against me through his mouth.

"Hey," I say softly, trying to wrap my arms around him, failing and giving up as I realize his grip is too tight. "I'm not going anywhere."

His mouth closes a little, quieting his breathing slightly as he sniffles.

"I'm an idiot, but I'm not suicidal," I say softly, trying again for a joke. He doesn't laugh, but he does pull away slightly to look at my face, lips swollen and quivering as he blinks at me.

"You scare me," he says quietly, not quite meeting my eyes. He's watching my lips, but I think that's because that's the closest he can get to making eye contact.

"I scare you?" I ask, furrowing my brows. I lick my dry, cracked lips for comfort. "Why?"

"Because I love you," he says shakily, sighing as though it were exhausting to admit while still holding that nervous flicker in his eyes. "Because when I think about not being with you the house seems colder. And I can't go back to hating this house."

I open my mouth to respond, but there's more.

"Because I love your stupid smile when you're excited, or how you do that cricket leg thing when you're falling asleep. Or how if you want my attention you'll bury your head in my chest and pretend you're doing it in your sleep even though I won't judge you for doing it while you're awake."

"I don't-"

"I love how defensive you get over things like that," he says, bringing one hand to cup my cheek, resting his thumb that smells like the creamy lavender handsoap next to the bathroom sink on my lips. "I love how you look waking up next to me, how you play with Abby. And for a really long time I didn't see myself ever having kids, but when I see you curling her hair at the kitchen table I think maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I just took up another job and saved money so that we could-"

"Mike-"

"Stop cutting me off," he says gently, his eyes finally meeting mine with just the smallest smile. "It's rude."

At that I do stop, my body finally relaxing into his grasp as I lean into him and his touch.

"I want things I haven't wanted since before Garret went missing," he says, stroking my lip. "And I want them with you."

Dinner was just as delicious as lunch, even if it was late. And the bed is soft like our voices as we make plans for years down the line. And after a week long break, the pages are finally filled once again.

Just like us.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Literally had a come to Jesus moment while writing this that not only do I fear being vulnerable irl, but in writing too. Nearly threw up while writing this. Book aable feet.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[apollodarling-writes]

yan! reiner braun hcs

i can’t get enough of this man.

cws: yandere themes, slight worshipper themes, the two of you initially met as scouts, aot season 4 spoilers, spoilers in general, kidnapping, kinda all or nothing thinking, some pathetic reiner crumbs bc i love seeing him pathetic, can kinda be perceived as having some form of a personality disorder, forced starvation and dehydration, kinda dehumanization, slight housewife (gn though) vibes but he just wants you to be productive.

— yan! reiner braun who initially fell in love with you during your time in the scouts. he was absolutely enamored with you. you, with all your flaws and rough edges, have single-handedly made it infinitely harder for him to complete his mission.

— yan! reiner who loves when you tend to his wounds. it makes him feel more human, settling further into the delusion that he had always been a paradisian.

— yan! reiner who is constantly hovering around you after he’s come to terms with his feelings. he has to protect you… no, he needs to. no one can protect you but him.

— yan! reiner who ensures that you’re left with someone he knows will protect you when he has to carry out the phases of his mission before leaving to do so. reiner will also immediately look for you when he’s finished, checking you for injuries— big or small, he’ll patch them up with furrowed brows and a firm expression.

— yan! reiner who is a little creepy… and overbearing. when you’re training, he’s training you to protect yourself in a more efficient way. when you’re eating, he’s making sure you eat good, going as far as to give you a portion of his rations. when you have free time, he’s always itching to spend time with you. you almost never have a moment to yourself unless levi has you stationed elsewhere.

— yan! reiner who feels the need to protect you because he’s witness just how bad this world really is. he is the bad… but he can be everything you need if you’ll let him. he needs to be your everything.

— yan! reiner who values your opinion more than his own. he needs your validation and approval and kindness. he feels like a piece of shit already and he knows that you’ll hate him when he completes the final stage of his plan, but god does he need you. he needs you more than he needs air.

— yan! reiner who takes you back to his homeland. whether you’re screaming profanities at him, kicking or screaming, crying or begging for him to let you go… it’s futile in the end. he needs you. he can’t guarantee your protection if he’s away from you. he can’t live without you; you’re his rock.

— yan! reiner who pulls some strings to get you citizenship in marley. shortly after, the two of you are wed. naturally, his family and friends don’t attend since you’re a filthy island devil, but it’s enough for him to finally be marrying you.

— yan! reiner who will never touch you in any way you don’t want him to. he will always respect your bodily autonomy seeing as he already hates himself and views himself as a monster. he wouldn’t want to be even worse of a person to you. as for punishments… well, that’s a different ballgame.

— yan! reiner who, in a fit of anger, would scream at you. he’s done everything for you! he provides for you, he keeps you safe and well-fed, he has never touched you in any sexual manner (unless you’ve given him explicit consent)— he keeps you healthy and safe and you’ll never have to work again! but if you’ve been ungrateful and have been refusing his efforts, unfortunately he wont be able to be the man you want him to be.

— yan! reiner who corners you, roughly jerking you up by your hair and locking you in the basement. he’ll tell you that you can come out once you’ve learned your lesson. he’ll deliver the absolute bare minimum. a bucket to use the bathroom in, stale bread, and a glass of water every three days. how long you stay down there is up to you.

— yan! reiner who will slump against the basement door and sob. he feels awful, but he knows he can’t let you out. he can’t let you walk all over him. it’s even worse that he’s confirming your already terrible view on him.

— yan! reiner who grovels at your feet for forgiveness when you’re finally out of the basement. he’ll bathe you and murmur constant apologies, all while crying about how awful he feels about it. he’ll brush your hair out, wincing as you flinch, and turn around while you dress yourself.

— yan! reiner who will whip up a tasty meal for you, and if you’re unresponsive, feed you himself. he needs to make sure you’re getting the nutrients you need.

— yan! reiner who, if you lost a noticeable amount of weight while in the basement, gazes at you sadly. he’ll go out and purchase supplements for you to take while you recover and insist you stay in bed while he takes care of all the housework.

— yan! reiner who requires you to do things while he’s gone. he at least wants a warm meal when he comes home, and if the house isn’t in disarray it’s acceptable for him. he’ll help you with chores when he gets home— even if he’s exhausted and ready to collapse. he doesn’t want to place too much pressure on you, but he doesn’t want you succumbing to depression.

— yan! reiner who will press a kiss to your temple, forehead, or cheeks. if he’s feeling bold enough, he’ll press a chaste kiss to your lips.

— yan! reiner who will hold you sooo close to him when it’s time for bed. he needs to feel you against him because it helps him sleep. you bring him peace.

— yan! reiner who absolutely has to have physical contact with you when you accompany him to meet with the other warriors. he has to stake his claim. he has to make it known that you’re his, even if the silver band on your left hand speaks volumes.

— yan! reiner who absolutely adores you. he praises you every moment he can. he needs you to understand why he fell in love with you, how lovely you are, and how much he loves you.

— yan! reiner who just wants to love you and be loved in return. he feels like an asshole for ripping you away from everything you’ve ever known but he needs you.

[alltaternotot]

The Recovery Plan | N. MacKinnon

Summary: Nathan and Y/N have a date planned, but a nasty cold gets in the way.

WC: 2K

CW: Sick fic! Bad communication, slight insecure reader, so the tiniest little bit of angst. Tooth rotting fluff, Nathan is a sweetheart. Confessions, swearing, lightly proofread. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hart trophy and best boyfriend award goes to this fella!

<><><><>

You let your phone ring and ring, then go silent, the third call coming through and going to voicemail.

One thing everyone knows, you, his teammates, the media, basically the whole hockey-enjoying public, is that Nathan MacKinnon is a health nut. Like, twenty-four hours a day, never shuts off kind of health nut. In the few months you had been exclusive, he had maybe three cheat days, and had never seen you sick. So when you woke up with chills, a fever, a cough, and a head stuffed to the brim with pressure, you decided to let Nate’s calls go to voicemail and curl up in your cocoon of blankets.

He was leaving in a few days for a long, important road trip, and you were not going to be the reason Nate couldn’t play. A cold was absolutely unacceptable to pass along to him. No amount of phone ringing or anything else could convince you otherwise. You would just have to instacart some NyQuil and some soup and tough it out solo. You were not going to bother him with your issues when he had much more important things to be worrying about.

The problem was, today was Nate’s off day, and the original plan was to meet up at your favorite cafe for a light lunch, then take a trip to Red Rocks. There was absolutely no way that was happening now. You hoped he would just assume you were tired and make his own rain check of the date. You didn’t let the thoughts swirl too long before falling asleep.

Nathan was completely and utterly worried.

You had never blown him off like this, not once in your year-ish long friendship or your few months of dating. He knew you always had your phone on you, and there really wasn’t a good reason to not have it. He was calling from the cafe, now 15 minutes past your arranged meet time. After dialing you about five times, he dialed Miles Wood instead, who happened to live in the same complex as you.

“Hey Dogg,” Woody answered, “what’s up man?”

“Hey, um, have you seen Y/N? I’ve called her a bunch, we were supposed to meet up but she isn’t picking up the phone.” Nate explained, hearing a faint hmm on the other end.

“I haven’t. I’m a ways out from home otherwise I would go check for you. Maybe she forgot?” Woody offered, secretly hoping it wasn’t that because of the awkwardness that would ensue if that was the case.

“Ok, I’ll go check on her. Thanks Woody.” He said, and hung up the phone after their goodbyes.

He threw on a cap and his sunglasses, making sure he had all of his essentials before locking up and getting in the car. You had given him a spare key in case of anything, so it was going to be no problem getting in. He just hoped for the best, but still assumed the worst secretly. He had a nasty habit of doing so sometimes.

Once he arrived at your complex, admittedly speeding a little to get there, he found your car still parked in its reserved spot. That was slightly relieving. He basically skidded into the guest spot and hopped out, locking up quickly. He chose to take the stairs up to your floor, deeming it faster than waiting in the lobby for the elevator. Your door was locked, understandably, the irrational thoughts slowly leaving his anxious mind. He slid the key into the lock, twisting and opening the door softly to a dark apartment.

Not a single light was on, the only light coming in from the window in the living space. It was very, very quiet, unusual for the space when you were in it. He loved how you lit up every room you graced. Things were tidy and normal, so no crazy robbery and kidnapping. He roamed around, looking for a sign from you in the kitchen, the living space, and the balcony, finding nothing.

Finally, he came to your bedroom, slowly twisting the handle in case you were inside, he didn’t want to startle you if you were. He noticed the black out curtains drawn, the room completely dark save for your salt lamp in the corner. Your floor was messy, tissues littering the ground and stacked high in the trash can. Your phone was on the nightstand, plugged in face down. Your bed was an absolute mountain of blankets unlike anything he had ever seen, just a tuft of your tangled hair sticking out the top on the pillow.

“Oh, baby.” He muttered to himself, a pang of guilt washing over him.

Now he understood. His girl was sick and sleeping while he was definitely ringing her phone off the hook. He stepped closer, trying to find you under all of that fabric. Your head was poking out onto your pillows, hair a mess and cheeks blazing red. You had a crumpled tissue in your hand. He stuck his hand out, running the back along your forehead. You were roasting under there, but he could feel your body shivering from the chills. You stirred, but didn’t wake.

He quickly stood straight, leaving you with a quiet click of the door. He locked up, dashing back down to the car and speeding to the local Walgreens. He filled his basket with all sorts of cold and flu necessities: medicine, cough drops, peppermint tea, your favorite Gatorade, a few of those crackable instant cold compresses, and a thermometer. He hoped no one would stop him in here, wanting to be as fast as he could. Luckily it didn’t appear that anyone knew or cared that he was there, shouting a thanks over his shoulder.

The next stop was Whole Foods, so he could grab some chicken noodle soup that was remarkably close to how his own mother made hers, when Nathan or his sister were sick as children. He threw in a sandwich for him to eat later, an extra couple of your favorite drinks and a chocolate croissant for you when you were feeling up to it. He checked himself out, making his way back to your apartment as quickly as he could. He walked back in with everything, trying to be as quiet as possible. He quickly set up a little tray of soup, medicine, and gatorade. He heated up some water in your kettle and steeped a couple of the tea bags. He cracked the cold compress and wrapped it in a paper towel before making his way back to your room.

He set the tray down on your desk, walking over to your window to crack it under the curtains, airing out the stuffy, overheated space. He checked the thermometer, making sure it was calibrated and working. Now he could finally sit down on the edge of your bed, and start the Nathan MacKinnon recovery plan.

He placed the thermometer on your forehead, dragging it across and down, 102.2F flashing back at him when it stopped thinking with a beep. That made him worried, more than anything else. He grabbed the cold compress, resting it on your forehead so, so softly. You stirred again, this time waking up. The throbbing pressure in your head had only gotten worse, the pain now rattling your jaw and your teeth. You were sweating under all of those blankets, but so impossibly cold at the same time. You groaned in pain before rolling over into a heavy mass that was dipping your side of the bed. Nate’s hand found your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek in feathery dashes.

“N-Nate?” Your voice coming out hoarse and patchy. “No, no you need to get out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere, babe. You need to break this fever.” He said, his hand sliding down to brush over your shoulders.

“No, you can’t get sick because of me. You have so much to worry about right now, I’ll be fine.” You insisted, watching his face slide into a sad frown through sleepy, delirious vision. “I’m just gonna instacart s-some meds. Go home before you catch this.”

“I beat you to it already. I’m not leaving so you can stop trying to convince me.” He crouched down, “do you think you can sit up to take something?”

You nodded, gingerly sitting up, trying to keep the pain from getting any worse. The blankets slid down as you sat up against the head board, now noticing that you had slept until 3:30pm. You guys would have been enjoying the beauty of Red Rocks by now. Nate grabbed the tray of goodies from your desk, setting it down gently. He popped the two gel caps out of the package, silently asking for your hand before unscrewing the cap to the Gatorade.

“We need to keep you hydrated, so keep taking sips of that,” he mentioned, watching you weakly swallow the cold medicine. “I hope you like chicken noodle soup, it’s very good.”

He picked up the spoon, taking some and guided it to your lips, letting you take a few bites. It definitely helped to settle your stomach, but chewing was painful. You honestly had no strength for more than half of the little bowl of soup, so Nate picked it up and returned it to the desk, placing the Gatorade next to you again. This time, Nate rounded the bed, climbing in and grabbing the remote, earning little hoarse nonononono’s from you.

He didn’t listen, of course, just adjusting so your head was resting in his lap, pulling a couple of the endless blankets up over your shoulder. He laid his hand gently over the cold compress, keeping it in place, while he picked an easy watch kind of show. Finally he sent a text to Woody, letting him know you were ok and that they were going to have a sleepy day in. His hand found your head, dragging his fingers through the tangles so you wouldn’t have to brush a huge birds nest out of your hair when you were back on your feet.

“Nate, please go, I can’t even imagine getting you sick. You guys have h-hard division rival teams coming up, they need you more than-“ you tried to reason.

“I told you already that I’m not leaving. Your fever was pretty high, and you needed to eat and drink something. I’m here to support you, whatever that looks like, and today it looks like this.” He explained, calmly and softly like it was the easiest decision he had ever made, “plus, I’ve been with you the last two days, slept here, and I haven’t gotten sick. And if I do get sick, I’ll figure it out with the staff. I’ve done it before.”

“I ruined the whole day, and my body hurts, and I don’t want you to have to deal with me right now.” You said, your eyes beginning to mist up with frustrated tears, “please, I promise I can deal with it.”

He realized you had begun to cry softly, a couple of tears dripping onto his shorts, “oh baby, you didn’t ruin anything!” He turned your body so you were laying face up, his hands coming to brush away your tears, “Also, I’m not dealing with you, I want to be there for you when you’re struggling. I don’t want you to handle it by yourself. This is just what you do when you love someone.” He rambled, the words coming out quicker than he could think.

He… loves you?

That’s the first time either of you had said it. He had planned to take you on a nice date, give you flowers, wine and dine the hell out of you, before finally telling you he loved you. Of course he knew he loved you, so he gave up the momentary wave of apprehension and went with it. No time like the present, even if that present was stuck in bed with a brutal cold.

“You love me?” You asked, choking on the words a little bit.

“Yeah, I do.” He said, looking deep into your eyes for any sign of rejection, “and I want you to be ok, so rest. We can talk about it more when you’re ready to.”

You turned back towards the tv again, Nate grabbing the cold compress to put back on your head. You close your eyes, feeling sleep call you. Nate returned to carding his fingers through your hair, keeping a slow and steady pace. Every once in a while he would run the compress over your neck and shoulders, trying to cool your burning body. The meds were already helping to bring the fever down. He could feel your breath begin to even out against his leg.

“Nate?” You asked, almost too quiet to be heard.

“Hmm?” He hummed, leaning down to hear you better.

“I love you too.” You admitted, feeling his lips press into your head before sleep overtook you again.

<><><><>

:)

[cherry-jamm]

Butcher x reader? Smut or not depending on your comfort level.

Due to all the side effects of the temp V and butcher being sick all the time, he’s been spending a lot of time at the hospital and there’s one nurse he interacts with all the time and develops a crush. The nurse (reader) likes him too. Eventually butcher sees her at a bar after hours one thing leads to another and they go home together.

Add on depending on how long you want it. Or maybe two stories?

You could add that Homelanders been watching butcher madly obsessed with him and he spies on him and the nurse hooking up and kidnaps her to use against him.

Homelander could use compound V on the reader making her a supe which he knows butcher hates.

Another idea I had was solider boy wanting the reader and being a moncho asshole and forcing himself on her and butcher stops him and is protective.

OR reader wants both solider boy and butcher at once and can’t choose so maybe she gets both (wink wink)

Sorry it’s a lot. Couldn’t write my own stores. Decided to pass along ideas.

Gross Misconduct

・❥・ Maybe your patient is hot, but that’s no excuse to partake in misconduct!

・❥・word count: 1.7k

・❥・warnings: hospitals, mentions of cancer, general banter, fade to black smut

・❥・Anon i ❤️ u and your ideas I plan on writing multiple of them so stay tuned, also my poor heart only wrote the sweet parts of your request I couldn't take the angst 😭

also I haven’t been in a hospital since I was five, can you tell?

There's a particular smell in a hospital. Disinfectant, stale air, and a powder smell that wouldn't go away. You held a small plastic cup in your hands, filled with a few pills in various sizes and colors. Your shoes clicked against the pale blue linoleum tiles that reflected the fluorescent lights above. You approached room 234, cautiously knocking on the door before entering. 

William Butcher had become what those in the psychiatric ward referred to as a revolving door patient. He would come into the hospital for no more than a few days at a time with a mysterious illness, then against his doctor's orders leave the hospital, only to reappear almost a week later with the same ailments. He had become a regular patient for you, he always requested your presence whenever a different nurse came to check on him. You'd be lying if you said that it didn't flatter you. He was a handsome man, tall strong, and rugged, and his accent was more attractive than you'd ever admit out loud.

"William." You greeted with a small nod and an easy smile. "Can't believe I'm stuck treating you again. What is it this time?" You teased.

"Same as last time. And I told you, call me Billy." He groaned. He sat on the bench instead of the bed, his head rested against the wall.

"I figured. You know the doctors all want you to stay here a little longer, maybe they could find the source of this. I know you don't want to hear this, but it could be cancer, it's always best to diagnose early."

"It ain't cancer." Billy sighed in that husky voice of his. "I just need a few days then I'll be back on my feet." He ran his hand through his hair. "And how've you been sweetheart?"

"I've been fine." You hummed. "You ready to take some pills? I assume you've been taking these everyday while you've been out of here?" You raise an eyebrow. 

"Yeah, yeah, I've been taking my pills." He waves his hand dismissively. You pull a water bottle out of a small fridge in his room. You set the cup and the bottle down beside him. 

"The doctors are suggesting a CT scan, or an MRI, something that might find cancer. That's the most viable option at the moment. I'm not supposed to be telling you this, really, a doctor was gonna come in later today and tell you, but I know you and I wasn't sure if you were even gonna stick around until then." You looked at him with furrowed brows, he was one of the most frustrating patients you had ever dealt with. He wasn't violent, or particularly perverted, but he was stubborn. Of course, many of your patients were stubborn, but he was different. Something about him made you want the best for him, not just in the way your field of work required, there was something personal about it. 

"You want me to get that scan?" He asked gruffly. Looking up at you standing over him. You felt your face heat up at his unrelenting stare. 

"Well, what I want doesn't matter. All I can say is that, these doctors know what they're doing, and it would do you some good to listen to them." You said matter-of-factly. He nodded. Silence fell over the room, but you could tell he didn't want you to leave.

"You- uh- you seeing anyone?" He questioned after a prolonged period of quiet, he was uncharacteristically nervous. His eyes were suddenly transfixed on the floor tiles. 

You were trained to say that it was none of his concern, but instead, your lips moved to say, "No, I'm not." The edges of your mouth quirked up into a small smile. 

"Yeah?" You found yourself swooning at his voice. 

"Yeah." You grabbed a blood pressure cuff from the wall and approached him to start taking his vitals. You raised your eyebrows and he took off his thick coat. You eyed his large biceps subtly. You wrapped the cuff around his arm and inflated the cuff. 

"How's about you let me take you on a date after this?" He smirked, looking up at you.

"You know I can't do that Mr. Butcher." You tutted. "Your blood pressure is better than it was last time you were in here." A smile forced its way on your face. "So you can listen to what the doctors say." He rolled his eyes.

"Why not? You don't like what you see?" He insisted. 

"As your nurse that would be gross misconduct. Highly against the code of ethics in this here hospital.”

"So if I wasn't your patient you'd go out with me?"

Just as you suspected Billy checked himself out of the hospital mere hours after you gave him his pills and took his vitals. God, he would be the death of you. You had just gotten home, you kicked off your shoes at the door and sunk into the couch. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you sighed before picking it up. It was your friend texting you and a few others in a group chat. 

who's gonna come with me to the bar tn 😝

Only a few minutes passed before your other friends started responding. 

I'm free tn

If we're going to Blue's I'm down

Count me innnnnnn

You rubbed your eyes. Did you really want to go out tonight? Maybe a night of fun will be good for you. 

What time? 

You asked. Pretty soon everything was arranged, all you had to do now was hopefully take a nap before you go and make sure you looked presentable. Time ticked by and you made yourself look presentable before grabbing your keys and driving to the bar.

The sun was low in the sky and cast golden shadows over the street. There was a crisp chill in the air. You pushed the door open and immediately spotted one of your friends sitting at the bar. After a while everyone arrived and you found yourselves a small table in the front corner of the bar. One right next to the window.

Time had slipped away from you as you drank and chatted with everyone until your eyes caught on a figure out of the window. Billy Butcher was walking down the street and right into the bar. There was a small bell above the door that jingled when he came in. The sound was so small that it would've been drowned out by the sounds of the bar if you hadn't have been intently listening for it. He walked in and scanned the entire place. His brown eyes looked into yours. There was a single second where the only people in the bar were you and Billy Butcher. He smirked wryly. You felt your face heat. Then as if he had no cares in the entire world he walked to the bar and ordered himself a drink. 

Your conversation became mindless chatter as you watched him. You burned holes into his back and practically studied the nape of his neck.

"What's gotten into you?" One of your friends poked your shoulder. 

"Okay, don't look now, but the man sitting at the bar is the patient I've told you guys about." Of course, all your friends turned their heads around to look for him. "He's the tall one, with the jacket." You whispered. One of your friends hummed. 

"Seems like a hunk." They giggled. "Why don't you go talk to him, buy him a drink or something?" 

"Oh no I couldn't, he's my patient!" You insisted. 

"But isn't he checked out of the hospital? That means you wouldn't be breaking any rules by flirting." 

"Until he checks back in, in a week." You scoff. 

"I say, go for it! Didn't you say he asked you out earlier?" Another friend chimed in. Your entire body felt hot with embarrassment. 

"Which one of you is gonna pick me up tomorrow morning?" You joked and downed the rest of your drink. Your friends cheered as you stood up and approached Billy.

“What are you doing here? Didn’t anyone tell you to stay home to and rest to recover?” You tease playfully. He scoffs before chuckling like he’d been expecting you to approach him. 

“A man can’t have some fun anymore?” His brown eyes graze over you in the dim light. “Whiskey’s the best medicine.” He swirls the brown liquid in his glass. You hum. 

“Well, I’d have to disagree.” You watch him take a sip of his drink. There was a beat of silence.

“You look good out of those scrubs.” He nodded. You felt yourself smile.

“You think so?” 

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” He nodded. “So what’re you doing here?”

“I can’t have some fun anymore?” You shot his words back at him with a grin. He calls the bartender over. 

“Drink of choice?” He leans closer to ask. “It’s on me.” He winks cheekily. You order a drink and tap your fingers against the bar while waiting. “I presume you haven’t started seeing anyone in the few hours since we talked last.” He started. 

“Why does it matter?” You teased. The bartender set a drink down in front of you and you brought it to your lips to hide your smile. 

“Well, have you?” 

“I have not.” You replied simply. He smiled. 

“You got anyone else in here with you tonight?” He leaned in close. You felt your brain slip out of your ears at his accented voice and warm breath. You looked over at your friends, who had gone back to chatting, while one or two of them kept an eye on you. 

“No one that would mind if I left.” You said breathlessly. 

“Then, may I have the honor of taking you home?” You looked up at him, at a sudden loss for words. 

“You know I can’t be your nurse if we do this?” You checked in.

“Well, nobody has to know…” You shot him a look. “Yes, fine, I know you can’t be my nurse.” You smiled and nodded. 

“Lead the way Prince Charming.” 

His gruff laugh filled the space between you. He took your hand and started guiding you away from the bar and towards the door. You cast a final thumbs up towards your friends before the cold air hit your face. The street was now completely dark, only lit up by the streetlights. 

“You are going to love this.” He laughed, as he guided you to his car.

[megs-98]

There's A First for Everything

Ahhh, very excited to post this piece. I wrote this for @bloodlessbhaalbabe for a valentine's day gift exchange :3 hope everyone loves as much as they do!

Summary: (Taking place post game and featuring @bloodlessbhaalbabe 's OC Elyra) After celebrating Love Day in Thaniel's Realm with the refugees and his love, Elyra, Halsin sets up a romantic evening for the two. He has something important to tell her before the fun starts.

Pairing: Halsin x f!OC (Elyra)

Tags: Explicit!, mutual pining, fluff, love confession, f! receiving oral, inappropriate actually quite appropriate use of entanglement spell, vaginal sex, lots of praise. I think that's it

Word count: 2.7k

You were sitting at the dining table in the home you share with Halsin, pressing dried rose petals in a mortar and pestle with beeswax, making one of your signature nail stains. You heard the front door open and close, signaling that your lover had returned home for the evening. 

“Elyra, my love.” He said as he pressed a kiss into your temple. “How has the day treated you?” 

“A lot better now that you’re here, handsome.” You winked at him as you told him about how you taught some self-defense classes to the tiefling children, and adults that wanted some lessons as you applied the bright red stain to your nails. 

“So resilient, my heart. I surely do regret not being able to observe your teachings. You always look so beautiful when partaking in.. strenuous activities.” 

Halsin took up residence behind your chair now, rubbing your shoulders as he smoked his pipe. 

“I wished to ask if you were busy tomorrow evening, I have something special planned, so long as you wish to partake in the celebrations with me.”

You quirked an eyebrow as you leaned your head back to meet his eyes resting your head against his midsection. “You know I’m never too busy for you, big guy. What’s the occasion?” 

“Well, tomorrow will be the celebration of Love Day. I have festivities planned for everyone during the day and something truly special planned for a woman of your caliber.”  

“I think it’s safe to say how we spend every evening could be a celebration of Love Day.” You laugh as you take his pipe from him. “But yes, you can count me in, I’m very interested to see what you have planned for the special day.” Taking a puff from his pipe, Halsin leans down and kisses you on the forehead as he gives you a small chuckle. 

~~

You woke early with Halsin the next day to help him get decorations up. Simple garlands of leaves from the various trees in Thaniel’s Realm painted reds and pinks, some having little hearts painted on them,  an obvious activity from the children yesterday. Moving along to help the other adults set up different activities for the day, you and Halsin kept stealing glances at each other whenever the opportunity presented itself. 

“I see those looks. The Druid Halsin loves you very much, Elyra. I’m sure he has something beautiful planned for you tonight.” You heard an older tiefling woman say. You smiled as you nodded. 

“I’m not sure what he has planned tonight, he won’t tell me. You know, it’s odd. Out of all my past lovers, I’ve never been with someone during an actual Love Day celebration. I’m not sure what to expect, but if I know Halsin, he won’t disappoint.” 

“Well, there’s a first for everything, dear. I’m sure it will be everything you always imagined it would be.” She said as she gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

You enjoyed the day watching Halsin play with the young ones as they showed him their arts and crafts, even getting some from the children yourself, with Halsin coming over periodically to check in and give you a kiss. This wasn’t how you envisioned your holiday being spent, with dozens of refugees and orphans in lands that were once shrouded by a curse. Least of all with such an attractive and massive wood-elf by your side. Never did you think getting kidnapped and infected by Illithids would have resulted in one of the best things in your life, but here you were. Being showered with love by the people you helped save and the man you love most. 

As the day came to a close, you helped adults serve dinner to the children, taking a plate of your own once they had all been served. You sat down on a log a bit farther away from everyone else, taking in the conversations and atmosphere. You heard a twig snap from behind you, causing your head to turn. Seeing Halsin coming out of the brush, you relaxed. 

“Apologies, my heart. I did not mean to frighten you. I was just getting things set up for us later.”

You smiled as he sat down next to you, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You spoil me, you know that right?” 

“Anything and everything for you, love.” He said as he grabbed your chin, making your eyes meet his. “Once dinner has been cleared, meet in the clearing by the lake. There I will show you just what I have in store for us tonight.” He pressed a kiss into your lips as you let out a small moan, trying to deepen the kiss. 

Halsin laughed softly as he pulled away. “Patience, dear. You’ll have me soon enough. Enjoy your dinner and the company we keep. I’ll see you soon.” 

He got up from the log and withdrew back to the woods as you watched him walk away. Admiring the way he filled out his pants, how his leg muscles contracted and relaxed as he took his steps. You began imagining what salacious activities your man had planned for you, causing your thighs to rub together as you felt your core start to ache. You shake those thoughts from your head as your attention is brought back to the others sitting near you. You impatiently finished your dinner, silently willing the others to finish up a bit faster. Once everyone was done and you had helped clean up, you ran back to your house to quickly change. Opting for an off the shoulder, slightly see through, white dress that stopped just below the knee. You opt to leave on your boots since you knew you’d be walking through tall grass to get to the clearing. 

Making your way through the brush, you slowly saw lights come into view as you approached the clearing Halsin spoke of. You were quite privy to the location as this was where you and Halsin usually met each other if you were not in your shared bed. It was obvious Halsin had cast a dancing lights cantrip, as you saw him illuminated underneath the floating orbs, leaning against a tree whittling. Laid before him was a blanket with a bowl of plums, a jar of honey, and a bottle of wine with two cups. 

Halsin smiles as he sees you walking up to him, putting his whittling project in his pocket. 

“There you are, my heart. Still after all this time, my heart swells with ecstasy every time I see you. I hope you remember our first night together as fondly as I do.” 

“Course I do. I made you so crazy for me you almost turned into the bear.” You say with a wink as you rub your hands against his chest. “Am I gonna see the bear tonight?” 

You see a faint flash of gold roll over Halsin’s eyes as he gives you a hum of acknowledgement. 

“While I do appreciate the enthusiasm, this is a night between just you and I in our most earthly forms.” You feel his hands slowly down your sides, how he was obviously continuing to memorize all of your curves. Firmly grabbing your hips as he brings his forehead against yours. 

Having led you to the blanket, Halsin kneels down and motions for your foot as he takes off each of your boots then motions for you to sit down as he sits next to you. He reaches his hand into his pocket pulling out his project, placing it in your hand. You look down and see a palm sized wooden heart. 

You hear Halsin clear his throat, looking at him and you can see just how nervous he still is after being together for months. You place the wooden heart in one of your boots, for safekeeping, and turn back to the wood-elf who you had fallen in love with. Facing him and taking his hands, you give him your full attention. 

“Elyra, I have told you this once before, but I must tell you again. My heart does stir lightly, but it does when I am near you. Between the shadow curse and being archdruid, I was beginning to lose myself. But you, my heart, you lifted the fog and helped me see that there is more in life for me to explore. You being one of them. I love this life we have together and I love you most of all.” 

“Aren’t you such a big, sweet softie.” You say as you squeeze his hands “I love you too. I never thought this is where my life would be, but I’m glad I’m here with you.” 

You grab a plum and hand him one as he presses a kiss into your temple. You watch him eat the fruit as you pour yourself a cup of wine, taking a drink and setting it to the side. Now it is Halsin who watches you as you grab a plum of your own. He watches closely as you drizzle honey over the fruit and take a bite, causing its juice and honey to drip down you, some landing on your cleavage.

A low growl emanates from Halsin as you hear him whisper “Oak father preserve me”. He reaches a hand out, being sure to keep his eyes locked on yours, as he uses his thumb to take a swipe of juice and honey off the top of your breasts, coming closer to you as he sucks it off his thumb.

Keeping eye contact, Halsin moved in even closer. “My, my, little dove, you’re a bit messy tonight. Can I help you clean yourself up?” 

His closeness causes you to breathe harder, making your breasts heavy closer to his face. 

“I’d be more disappointed if you didn’t. Help a girl out, huh?” Your request came out breathier than you had anticipated. 

Receiving the consent he was waiting for, Halsin presses a bruising kiss to your lips, causing you both to moan. Halsin slowly works his way down your neck, leaving marks as he went, until reaching your chest. He licked the rest of the honey off your chest before he pulled back to look at you again, ensuring that you were enjoying yourself. He saw that you were leaning your head back as your eyes rolled back. Satisfied that you were enjoying yourself, Halsin reaches down and pulls the hemline of your dress down as he lays you down. Halsin slots himself between your thighs as he pulls your dress down more, revealing your breasts. He takes a nipple in his mouth as he paws at your other breast. Spurred on by hearing your moans, he continues working your dress down your body, silently thanking Silvanus for the loose fabric it was made of. Once he had you completely stripped, he sat up and marveled at your form. Running his hands down your body, grabbing handfuls of your plush stomach and thick thighs. 

“Silvanus truly took his time creating you, my heart. Oak father, preserve me, you are so beautiful.”  

Halsin leans down, placing tender kisses across every inch of skin he could see, leaving the occasional mark as he kissed closer to your aching core.  He places your thighs over his shoulders as he lays himself back down. He slowly kisses his way down each of your thighs as you card a hand through his hair, hearing a moan as your nails scratch Halsin’s scalp. Needing more, you grab a handful of his hair, attempting to guide to where you need. 

“Patience, my heart.” You hear as Halsin chuckles. “You’ll get what you need, and much more.” 

Just as you are about to protest, a gasp leaves you as you feel Halsin’s mouth around your clit. Tongue circling as he gently sucks on it, making your grip on his hair tighten even more. His hands come around your thighs, most definitely leaving bruises from his tightening grip, as he brings his tongue down to your slick folds. His name tumbles off your lips as you moan his name, feeling your core beginning to tighten, knowing that you’re close. You grind against his face trying to get yourself there faster. You feel as Halsin withdraws one of his hands from your thigh, quickly finding entrance as he continues to work your overstimulated clit. He pumps one finger in and out of you, quickly adding a second one after feeling how wet you are. As he continues fingering you, hitting that sweet spot oh so well, you back arches as you find yourself closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re doing so well for me. I love feeling the way you tighten around my fingers as you get closer to finishing. I need you to finish for me, love, like the good girl you are. Can you do that?” 

As you hear his praise and have your sense filled by the man, between his ministrations in your cunt, continuing to use his tongue to circle and flick your clit, and his strong hand around your thigh, you quickly find yourself tumbling over the edge. Halsin doesn’t stop though, he continues his work as he moans into you feeling you cum on his hand. Halsin kisses his way up your body as you struggle to catch your breath, feeling him take his pants off as he does. He grabs your hands with his, lacing his fingers between yours, and gives you a passionate kiss. 

“I need you to keep your hands above your head for me and if it becomes too much please do not hesitate to tell me.”  

You quirk an eyebrow at him, wondering just what the druid has in store for you. You hear him whisper “Voco vineae” with a flash of green, you feel as roots come up out of the ground, pinning down your wrists. You flash Halsin a mischievous smile as he leans down to kiss you again. Playing with one of your breasts as he gave his throbbing cock a couple of strokes before lining up with your entrance. You both moan as he sinks his length into you, stuffing his cock into you down to the hilt with little resistance. He brings your legs over his chest before he leans forward placing his forearms on both sides of your head. He feels you clench again as before he even starts thrusting, you turned on from how he has you folded and pinned down. He starts thrusting at an achingly slow speed, causing you to whimper as you need more. Need to feel more of his cock in you, need to dig your nails into his skin.. You just need more of him. After what feels like an eternity of his languid strokes, Halsin begins thrusting faster and harder, feeling himself come close to the edge. You moan his name as your head falls back even farther, eyes rolling in the back of your head. 

“That’s it, love. You take my cock so well, it’s as if you were made for me.” 

You struggle against the roots more as you hear his praise, wanting to feel his skin against yours. He continues his punishing pace of thrusting into, still perfectly hitting that sweet spot, just the way he knows you like. You, once again, quickly find yourself stepping over the edge as you finish. Once Halsin feels you tighten around him as you finish, his pace falters as he finds himself coming closer to the edge himself. With a wave of his hand, he dismisses the roots around your wrists and pulls you close to him, continuing his pace as he does. You instinctively pull him into a kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck, slipping your tongue in his mouth as he moans into you. He continues to hold you while he fucks you as he finally reaches his climax, stifling his moan as he buries his head in the crock of your neck. He slowly stops thrusting into you as he rides out his high. He lays down on his side, bringing you with him, as he kisses the top of your head. 

You rest your head against his chest, still fighting for breath as you lay there. “You’re gonna have to do that thing with the roots more often, big guy.” You say as you grab at his shirt.

Halsin gives you a laugh as he hears your words. “That can be arranged, my love.” He begins to rub your back as he tangles his body between yours as you both quickly find sleep.

[yanderes-galore]

Could we get a romantic yandere knockout and breakdown from prime (together) with a human reader? A blurb or headcanons are fine

Wasn't sure if you wanted them sharing or a rivalry so I made it sharing. I feel the way this came out was a poor execution but I do feel they'd work well together :(

Yandere! TFP! Knock Out + TFP! Breakdown with Human! Darling

Pairing: Romantic - Sharing

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Poly yandere, Cybertronian/Human/Cybertronian pairing, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Stalking, Degrading behavior, Threats, Forced relationship, Violence, Implied murder, Dubious affection.

These two do seem like the type to share a darling.

They are a close duo and are often seen together until Breakdown's demise.

While Breakdown is always looking for a fight, Knock Out is one for vanity.

There's no real way for a human to meet these two on formal and proper terms.

Humans are usually seen as less than when it comes to Decepticons.

Autobots are often shamed for making allies with such humans and not treating them as pets.

You would most likely meet these two by being kidnapped after being stalked for awhile.

Be it a human who has minimal contact with Autobots or a lot of contact with the Autobots... they'll take interest.

There's also the way I've used before where you work with vehicles.

Which means you could've repaired them/helped them and just not have known it?

Being stalked by sentient vehicles/Cybertronians is an unnerving thought.

You'll notice in the corner of your eye two different vehicles following you.

They dart out of sight after but it puts you on edge.

Knock Out is probably the first one open to the idea of a human darling.

He's been around the humans and didn't mind it when you touched his paint.

You even tried to swatch the right colors the one time he tried to get you to fix him.

Knock Out thinks you're adorable with your small stature and oblivious nature to his true form.

He may tip Breakdown off to you and gets him to tag along in following you.

Breakdown thinks of you as a human pet like most Decepticons, Knock Out thinks the same thing for awhile too.

It takes the two Decepticons some time to think of you more than that, their feelings most likely occurring when they stalk you.

In private they talk about you, the cute human they've been so attached to.

They share their distaste of those around you, they plot ways to know more about you, they even plot kidnapping you together.

They would play their obsession off as just wanting you as a pet.

Although they do think about the idea of being involved with you in a more... romantic/intimate way?

They'll kidnap you together once they had their fill of watching you.

Watching you in your home, at your job, and on the street gets them yearning for something else to satiate this human desire they have.

Good luck running when they enact their plan.

You're going to be running from two vehicles.

Knock Out may be faster, but Breakdown's always lurking around the corner.

Even if you try to run in a car of your own, they'll run you off the road.

Then they'll tear you out of your car and take you with them.

Both of them want to hold you although I imagine Breakdown will take the roll.

They tell other Decepticons, like Starscream and Megatron, that they decided to keep a human pet.

It's an annoyance to others, but as long as they "clean up after you" they can keep you.

It's dehumanizing and degrading.

The two start by teasing and treating you like a pet.

They comment on your size, they lightly pet your body, and carry you everywhere like you're some hamster.

Although soon you'll notice they do it less and less.

Instead? They both treat you like you're closer than you actually are.

Knock Out keeps up your looks and checks your health with the limited human knowledge he has.

Breakdown is more gentle around you and even acts defensive/protective of he and Knock Out's obsession.

They don't mind sharing between each other too much since they get along with each other well.

They do mind when others question their obsession.

Decepticons aren't supposed to be so close to humans.

Despite this they find themselves holding you closer when others question their feelings towards you.

Sure, they can't properly show you they care without Holoforms-

But they still love you and that's their business.

Just because I don't mention Holoforms much I'll speak a little about them.

Using Holoforms, an upgrade they put in once they find you, they have an easier time showing affection without crushing you.

In this form Knock Out can properly pick clothes for you or keep you looking like their human.

Breakdown likes carrying you and displaying his strength in either form, even when you struggle.

Knock Out is the brains of the duo while Breakdown is the brawn.

If they feel they need to get rid of someone to keep you then Breakdown is sent to squash them.

Be them human or Cybertronian...

Breakdown is the one who comes back splattered in glowing Energon or red blood.

Knock Out isn't the one who deals with the murder part of the obsession usually.

It's messy.

Although if he really hates the person he'll join in.

When you start to eventually sob out of fear, the two struggle with comfort.

They'll use their Holoforms to hold and comfort you but they have no idea how to make you feel better.

In reality they most likely can't as they are the ones or kidnapped you and forced you to love them.

They hold and kiss you as their Holoforms, they tell you they're the best partners you could ever have.

Regular old humans are below you, you deserve something better.

What's better than them?

Cry, scream, struggle all you want.

All that'll do is make Knock Out restrain you until you learn to be a good human for them.

He and Breakdown will take care of you.

It's Decepticon nature to lie and steal to get what you want... they'll never let you go once they have you.

[dilvuc]

❝𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐘❞ DAY 6: REWRITTEN MEMORIES...?

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: angst

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗: male

𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖑𝖊: DAY 6: REWRITTEN MEMORIES

𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: cater x yandere!m!reader

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: kidnapping, brainwashing, mentioned of dr*g

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: you held cater captive in your basement after the breakup. you've been trying to cooperate with him, but unfortunately he wouldn't want to look at you or touch your food, so…you made decision to fixed this

“I have made spicy chicken ramen.” you said, holding a bowl of ramen in hand. cater, who's handcuffed to a pole in the basement, looks away, “I’m not hungry…”

“...Come on now. You can't just sit there and starve to death.” you sighed before placing the bowl of ramen near the mattress. “I'm worried you might ruin your health.”

“I would rather sit here and starve to death. I don't need your pity…!” cater scoffed, not making a single eye contact with you. he just wants you out of his sight PERMANENTLY after you kept him captive in your basement for months after the breakup.

“I'm only trying to protect you. Keep you safe.” you frowned, “Do you even know how long I've been trying to cooperate with you? But you keep pushing me away.”

“That's because you kidnapped me! You dr*gged me and kept me in the basement!” the ginger argued before picking up the ramen and tossed it in your face, leaving a burn, but you don't care. you sighed, “No matter how many times I try, your memories keep coming back.”

cater's eyes widened in a mixed of shock and confusion, “W…what did you just say…? What do you mean by that?”

you pulled a syringe from your pocket, causing cater gasped shakily and slowly back away in fear, “W-why do you have that…?! What are you planning to do with it?!”

“What I always do. You see, Cater. It hasn't been months since you've been here.” you stated while flicking the needle. cater furrowed his eyebrows, “What do you mean? I remember correctly that you kidnapped me months ago!”

“Take a look at that calendar, cat.” you pointed to the calendar. cater turned his focus on the calendar hanging on the wall and checked the year. And to his surprise, it was no longer the year of 2020(first release in japan), it was 2024. he has been captive for four years?!

“If you have not realized, my unique magic can erase and edit your memories. But, I can also rewrite your memories.” you explained. “I don't like using it on you, but…I can't keep letting you remember this. I'm gonna have to erase the breakup part and rewrite where we live happily ever after.”

“You…” cater gritted his teeth. you chuckled sinisterly, “Everyone deserves a happy ending, right? Why can't we have our happily ever after?”

“You just rewrote my memory and brainwashed me! You can't do this to me!” cater hollered.

“Don’t worry~” you clasped cater's warm cheeks,

“I'm sure you'll love it~”

❝𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐘❞

twst masterlist

[aziraphales-library]

Hello!! I love this blog, and thank you so much for doing this!!

I was wondering if you know any fics where people try to set them up?

Hi! We have a #matchmaking tag you can check out. Here are some more to add...

Oblivious by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

“Mr. Crowley and Mr. Fell had been truly baffling to watch all evening, often trading jabs about weather and horses and philosophy before stalking away to different corners. And yet they orbited each other, never staying apart for long, always drawn back together. Phoebe had never seen two people so desperately in love and yet so oblivious to it.”

Love is Blind (Tied Up and Gagged) by RoseDoesFanfiction (G)

"What-” Crowley starts, cutting himself off as he tries to make sense of the scene he’s currently observing. His mouth hangs open around the choke of inarticulate sentiments—mostly ardent confusion—he doesn’t have the words to voice. A shaky breath steadies his nerves as he slumps down upon the edge of his bed. From what he can see, Gabriel and Beelzlebub have kidnapped Aziraphale. He would laugh if it wasn’t so achingly tragic. “He was miserable,” Gabriel explains simply. (Or the one where it takes a minor kidnapping to get them to actually sit down and TALK for someone's sake.) Post Season 2 fix-it.

7 minutes in heaven by waddlesthejoghog (T)

"If Crowley and Aziraphale couldn’t figure it out, Muriel would have to take a different approach. It wasn’t enough to put them in the same location. They had to plant some seeds of conversation. They had to come to a conclusion naturally, but with a push." OR Muriel reads every book in the shop, then comes up with a plan to get Aziraphale and Crowley back together.

seven minutes in somewhere by whicorzoo (T)

In which Aziraphale Fell, in his last year at Eden High School, has had a long-standing, unyielding crush on Anthony Crowley that leaves him a flushing, stuttering mess at the other boy’s mere mention. Because of his affliction, he’s vowed to never speak with Crowley to avoid the inevitable and soul-crushing embarrassment that would surely follow. It’s not as if he’s really risking anything this way, anyways; Crowley likely doesn’t even know he exists. His scheming-but-well-intentioned best friend Anathema, a pantry, and a game of seven minutes in heaven aim to break that vow.

Muriel's Arrow by marsnack (T)

After waiting thousands of years Muriel is finally given their first mission on earth. To make humans fall in love. Only one problem. Or several, actually. Muriel isn't all too good at matchmaking. And Hell, for some unknown reason, really wants to steal Cupid's Bow. And er, the Instruction Manual heaven provided Muriel is a little... outdated When Muriel shoots Crowley with Cupid's Arrow, Aziraphale is desperate to find a way to reverse it. But Crowley is acting differently than everyone else who was shot by the bow. Perhaps it was because he's a demon. Or was there another reason?

The Whispers of The Moon by comicallybadwriter (M)

“Aziraphale, for the eleventh time we have enough wine!” Crowley groaned and leant across the bookshop door, waiting as impatiently as one could for their best platonic friend of 6000 years to finally finish packing a picnic basket for a night of looking at the stars. “Angel,” Crowley stepped into the kitchen and took Aziraphale’s hands in his own, “Anything you’re missing right now, I’ll miracle up in the snap of my finger. Literally.” Crowley raised an eyebrow and snapped his fingers for show when a tartan ribbon had fallen into his hands suddenly. The angel picked up the ribbon softly and turned it around in his hands, making Crowley pink in the face, “Sssorry Angel let me-” "Turn around dear." ::: Aziraphale and Crowley are finally left alone, but where there's a demon and angel, there's drama. What could possibly be worse than the end of the world? Well, a lovesick demon struggling to cope with the evergrowing need and want for their neighbouring angel could do some damage.

- Mod D