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javierpena-inatacvest · 4 months ago

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Dirty Laundry

Summary: Life with two toddlers has taken a toll on your sex life for the past few weeks, but after a surprisingly calm morning, you and Javi find a creative solution to solve your problem.

Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also, who am I to say?) vaginal fingering, paise kink, a breeding kink so dangerous that you may get pregnant just from reading, creampie, cum play, a loud washer and dryer, no actual laundry accomplished, domestic girl dad Javi, you'll always be famous

A/N: idk who unlocked my cell while I was ovulating, but once again I have escaped, and once again, we're makin' babies. I think I've convinced myself I don't know how to write anything else, and for that, I am genuinely sorry. If wanting to give Javier Peña a football team worth of kids is a crime, then lock me up and throw away the goddamn key 🤠

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

For as much as you loved your daughters, it was safe to say that for the past two weeks, your pair of rambunctious toddlers had been doing very little for your sex life.

Your 4 year old Lucy had been going through a phase of having nightmares every night, and somehow ending up in you and Javi’s bed no matter what you tried. That, combined with trying to potty train your 2 year old, Elliot, (who was nowhere close to being the breeze her older sister it was when it came to the matter), on top of preschool, work, and life in general, you and Javi had barely gotten so much as a kiss in, let alone some quality time together.

It had been your hope to start trying for baby number three, but after 2 months of negative pregnancy tests and another month of complete chaos, despite your best intentions, “trying” had very much taken a backseat in your mental to-do list.

But this morning when you woke up, it was almost as if a wave of calm had washed over your house to reset the state of disarray you had been in the past few weeks- Both girls had slept through the night in their own beds, had woken up in good spirits, Elliot asked to use the bathroom multiple times, and both had been happy to play in the living room together quietly as you worked on catching up on some much needed laundry.

So calm, in fact, that Javi was almost worried when he came downstairs for work to hear near silence, apart from the occasional giggles from the girls as they arranged their Fisher Price Little People in their Play Barn and the washer running in the background.

“Hi Daddy!” Lucy cooed, toddling over to her dad, wrapping her arms around his waist as Elliot quickly followed behind, perching on his leg like a koala.

“Buenos días, niñas. (Good morning, girls).” Javi grinned, squatting down to kiss the wild, sleepy curls of his daughters’ heads, still slightly confused by the tranquil state of the house. “Where’s Momma?”

“Washing stinky socks.” Lucy giggled, pinching her nose and scrunching her face, pretending to have smelled something bad.

“Yeah, stinky socks.” Elliot echoed, sticking out her tongue.

“Oh yeah? Is it because my pollitas (little chickens) have stinky, smelly feet?” Javi teased, wrapping his arms around the girls, pulling them close to his chest as he tickled their sides, the three erupting in laughter and giggles.

“What’s goin’ on out here, huh?” You grinned, stepping out of the laundry room with your arms playfully crossed against your chest to see your husband and daughters in a tickle tackle pile on the living room floor.

“Daddy said we have stinky feet! Daddy’s got stinky feet, not me and Elliot.” Lucy protested.

“I think you and Daddy both have stinky feet, Lucy Lu, and your dirty laundry proves it.” You smiled, watching Javi give one last big kiss to each of the girls before pushing up off the floor with a grunt, making his way over to you. “Good morning, Mr. Stinky Feet.”

“Hey, c’mon now. I can’t have you all gangin’ up on me.” Javi pouted through his smirk, wrapping his arm around your waist as his lips softly met yours, his words sweet and low as they danced against your skin. “Good morning, Hermosa.”

His kiss lingered just long enough to send butterflies swirling through your stomach, biting down on your lip to try and keep your heart beating any faster than it already was. You stood there for another moment, eyes locking with his as the grip around your waist tightened just subtly enough to hint his mind was in the same place as yours.

You were finding a way to finally have sex this morning.

You could feel the arousal already beginning to pool in your core, swallowing hard as Javi tilted his head and raised his eyebrows at you while his hand slid further down your waist towards your ass, trying to devise a plan for the two of you to be alone long enough to do what you had both been so desperately craving these past few weeks.

As you turned your head back over your shoulder in search of ideas, a devilish grin spread across your face, looking back to Javi to gently tug on the maroon tie dangling from his neck, twisting the end through your fingers.

“I think I really need help with the laundry before you leave for work.” You mewled, leaning in to press another kiss to his plush lips, followed by another on his cheek and neck, Javi letting a soft groan rumble in his chest.

“Oh Fuck, baby. What do we do about the girls?” He asked quietly, trying his best to keep his composure as the dark brown of his eyes grew hungrier with want.

“Snack and a movie? There’s already a baby monitor out in the living room, and if we put on “The Little Mermaid”, it should buy us enough time.” You nodded in reassurance of your own idea, already growing antsy with anticipation.

“God, I love you.” Javi smirked, giving you one more kiss and a firm squeeze of your ass before breaking away towards the kitchen so you could execute your plan.

“Hey girls?” you called, making your way towards the living room where they were back to playing, “Daddy needs to help Mommy with some, um- laundry. So if we put on “The Little Mermaid”, can you show us what big girls you are and let you watch the movie all by yourselves?” You asked, doing your best to play up your request.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Elliot squealed, clapping and stomping her feet. “Wittle Mermaid!”

“Okay, go get your blankets and sit on the couch and Daddy’s gonna bring you a snack to watch the movie with.”

“Yay! Movie time, movie time!” Lucy shrieked as the girls ran to go grab their things, plopping themselves on to the respective corners of the couch. While you searched for the VHS in the entertainment center, Javi returned from the kitchen with two much bigger than needed bowls of Teddy Grahams, turning on the TV as you pushed the tape into the receiver and pressed play.

With the bright blue Disney logo appearing across the screen and your daughters both happily snuggled with their snacks on the sofa, you and Javi gave each other the silent nod of approval, slowly backing away towards the laundry room while the girls sat in content and entranced silence.

After one last peek, you carefully closed and locked the laundry room door behind you, quickly followed by turning on both the washing machine and the dryer, trying to do yourself any favors you could by drowning out any suspicious sounds.

“Good?” Javi asked once more for reassurance, feeling his slacks get tighter and tighter around his crotch by the second as he waited for your response.

Without a single word, your lips were crashing into his, a messy dance of tongues and teeth ensuing between you as your bodies bumped against the laundry room counter, limbs tangled together in a frantic race to remove clothes.

“Fuck, I missed you. Missed this.” Javi groaned, helping you slide your top over your head and unclip your bra as he nipped at your neck, pushing your back against the dryer and caging your body under him.

“I know, baby, me t-too.” You whimpered, reaching out to undo Javi’s belt buckle, shoving his pants down to his thighs, followed by his boxers, freeing his cock as it slapped against the dark hairs on the happy trail of his stomach. “Missed having your big dick inside me.”

“Fuck.” Javi swore under his breath as you reached out to stroke him, swiping your thumb over his weeping tip to rub the precum up and down his shaft as he shoved your the waistband of your pants and underwear down your hips just far enough to let them fall to the floor around your ankles.

As much as you both desperately wanted to take your time, worshiping every inch of each other’s bodies until you had nothing left to give, you knew time was not on your side. After a few more strokes, you pulled back, letting Javi snake his hand against your body to slide between your legs, the slightest graze of his fingertips already making you shutter with need.

At this point, even after the few weeks it had been without Javi inside you, you were wet enough that you could have taken him without any warm up, your core dripping with your arousal to the point it was smearing the inside of your thighs with its shiny coating. But even with your cunt soaking wet and time working against you, Javi couldn’t help but drag his fingers through your folds, curling to push up into your tight hole and prod against your g-spot.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so wet. This all for me, Momma? Missed me fillin’ you up with my cock? Missed me fucking you full of my cum, huh baby?” Javi growled, his words shooting straight to your cunt, making you clamp down tighter around his fingers and your clit throb with intensity.

It had been a minute since baby making had been at the forefront of your mind, but his question set off something animalistic in the both of you, knowing that right now could give you a chance at baby number three that you had been wishing for.

“Y-yes, Javi, fuck- want you to fill me up, baby. Want you to fill me up until you fuck a baby into me.”

It was then that Javi couldn’t have been more thankful that you had turned on the washer and dryer to try and drown out your noise, because the groan he let escape from his parted lips was much louder than he intended.

But then again, there were few things in this world that turned him on more than you begging him to knock you up, so what did he expect?

Scooping his arms under your thighs, Javi hoisted you on top of the dryer, your ass hitting the cold, vibrating metal with a thud as your lips collided again with desperate ferocity, muffled moans escaping from your mouths.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl. Want me to knock you up again, Momma? Give you another baby?” Javi smirked, reaching to line his cock up with your entrance, swiping his tip through your folds to collect your slick and coat it along his length before he pushed inside you, sinking deeper and deeper until he bottomed out, hips flush with yours.

Words couldn’t describe how much you had missed the sweet stretch and sting of Javi’s fullness, each inch of him feeling better than the last, sobbing out as his tip kissed your cervix, all inhibitions of self-composure completely tossed out the window. Still sunk deep in your cunt, Javi’s hand shot over your mouth, stifling your cries in his palm.

“Shhhhhh, I know, Osita. You gotta keep quiet though, baby.”

You nodded frantically in compliance, Javi’s hand dropping to grip around your waist as you tried to catch your breath. “M-move, Javi, please.” Your whimpering request borderlining pathetic with how badly you needed him.

“You promise you’re gonna be a good girl and keep quiet?”

“Mhmmmm. I promise, baby, please.”

With that, Javi’s hips began to snap, dragging his cock in and out of you at a dangerous pace, coating the walls with the sounds of the wet sounds of your cunt and slapping skin, muffled by the washer and dryer.

“Oh my God, Javi. Fuck. Fuck, you feel so good.” You whined, locking your legs behind the small of Javi’s back, keeping him as close to you as possible as he fucked in and out of you. You draped your arms around his shoulders, fingers burying themselves in the dark curls at the nape of his neck.

The closeness had the hairs at the base of his cock rubbing deliciously against your clit, adding to the tension beginning to build at the base of your spine, both of you knowing it wouldn’t take long to get where you needed to go after weeks without being able to have each other like this.

Javi could feel it too, his balls beginning to tense with each pump, using every ounce of self control to keep from preemptively spilling into you, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your hips and thighs, holding on to you like his life depended on it.

“Jesus, Fuck- Fuck, I missed this tight little pussy so much. Gonna cum so deep inside you. So deep it’s gotta fucking take. God, you’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant. I swear I’ll give you as many babies as you want, Hermosa.” Javi babbled, biting down on his lip as he pounded into you, reaching one of his hands down to circle at your wet, puffy clit, aching to be relieved from all the built up tension.

At this point, you were so drunk on pleasure that you could barely remember your own name, feeling your orgasm begin to build through every inch of your body in a way that had you seeing stars, digging your fingernails into Javi’s shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck to keep from crying out his name, forcing yourself to whisper incoherent sweet nothings against his skin.

“P-please, Javi. F-fill me up. Oh shit- Fuck, baby, I’m so close.”

Javi’s thrusts became sloppier and more erratic, fingers rubbing your clit with the perfect amount of pressure to coax your orgasm out of you before he followed suit, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow in intense concentration.

“That’s it, baby. Cum all over me. Soak my fucking cock before I fuck you full of me and knock you up. C’mon, Momma.”

Suddenly, your orgasm crashed through you, lighting your body up like a goddamn Christmas tree, every inch of your body radiating with bliss as you clamped down around Javi’s cock, biting down on his shoulder as you came to try and stifle your cries.

Javi was only moments behind you, letting out a low grunt with the final sutter of his hips as he came, coating your walls with his warm spend, fucking it into with every ounce he had left until he had milked himself dry.

Your bodies collapsed into each other, rising and falling in sync with heavy breaths like you had just finished the last mile of a marathon and collapsed at the finish line, damp and sticky with your sweat.

As much as Javi didn’t want to pull out, he could feel his cock beginning to soften and the mixture of your spend leaking from your hole. Refusing to let a drop go to waste, he pulled out of you, a groan rumbling low in his chest as he wrapped his hand around his length, dragging his tip up through your folds and collecting the cum that had been dripping out. Taking the wet mess he had gathered with his cock, he pushed himself back into you, slowly thrusting in and out of you, a devilish smirk spreading across his face at the absolutely obscene sound coming from between your legs.

“Promise me,” Javi gulped between pants, finally pulling out of you again, “Promise we never go this long without having sex again. Holy Fuck.”

“Promise.” You couldn’t help but giggle in agreement, coming down from your blissed out high. “God, that was the longest two weeks ever. Don’t know why we didn’t think of this sooner.”

“Because we’ve been sleep deprived and exhausted, and our little monstros (monsters) have been giving us a run for our money.” Javi chuckled, reaching behind you to grab a towel from the cabinet above the dryer, quickly rinsing it in the sink before wiping you up and helping you find all of your clothes.

“Are we crazy for wanting another one?” You asked, looking down at your stomach, thinking about the ramifications of what you had just done.

“Maybe. But you drive me so fucking crazy, we may end up with 10 before you know it.”

“Javi! Dear lord, we are not having 10 kids, you psycho.” You laughed, playfully slapping your husband on the shoulder.

“Stop being so hot and I’ll stop knockin’ you up.” Javi smirked, raising his eyebrows at you as you rolled your eyes at him knowing damn well you’d have a whole army of his kids if he really wanted.

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that. Alright, you need to get your ass to work and I need to feed the gremlins before I drop Lucy off at preschool. Let’s go, cowboy.” You grinned, playfully smacking Javi on the ass, giving him a quick kiss as you made your way towards the door. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Osita. I gotta remember to call my dad on the way into work.”

“Call your dad? Why?”

“To see if Abuelo can take the girls this weekend so you and I can catch up on a lot of laundry.”

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@purpleprincess75

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timmydraker · 1 month ago

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During a patrol in Gotham one night, Red Robin comes across a strange sight.

A young woman stands over a crumpled body with a sling shot primed and ready, aimed a man with a rather large hand gun. It’s clear she’s protecting the woman who looks like she’s been hit over the head and had her bag nabbed, as it’s ripped and contents are spilled everywhere.

The girl sits shaking, she isn’t scared at all, standing strong with a shard of glass aimed at the man’s crotch.

Tim jumps down and disarms the man smoothly before turning to the young girl, who upon closer inspection seems to be around thirteen years old.

“Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head and stares at him for a moment with awe in his eyes before her eyes widen and she turns to the person behind her, “But she is! That guy was cornering her and I tried to help but he hit her and-“

“Alright, I understand. Would you like to help me get her to the ER a few blocks away?”

The girl nods with a determination Tim remembers seeing in Dick and Jason in their Robin days and he smiles.

He doesn’t ask her what her name is because side he knows he’ll follow up and find something to feel guilty about, but the girl seems to have her own plans.

She shows up a couple of days later, standing on a tall building with a cheap Robin outfit on.

Tim is confused before he drops down and she gives a big grin and mock salute, “How can I help?”

Tim smiled a little before shaking his head, “Taking the title of Robin, are you?”

She nods, now more bashful, “Well, I want to help people. I don’t want to fight exactly, but… well, sometimes you bats are too busy with the villains to notice the little guy and- bro to say you’re a bad hero-“

“You’re right, it’s okay. We can only do so much and sometimes preventing more damage being done saves more lives, but there will always be a cost.”

She smiles, bright orange, and impressively curly, hair getting in her eyes and sticking to the poor quality glue of her fake domino.

“I want to help. I… can help, please.”

Tim answers after a solid minute of silence, “What is your name?”

She frowns, “Aren’t I supposed to have a secret identity?”

He smiles in answer, “Yes, but I know what you look like and I can find out, I’m asking out of politeness.”

The girl looks like she could pout and Tim feels strangely old at the sight, even if he’s still got a few months before he can even legally drink.

“Carrie. Caroline to be specific.”

Tim smiles, “Well, Carrie, here’s the deal. I will meet you here or somewhere like here every night and until, and only until, you can land a hit on me will I agree to let you help.”

While Carrie doesn’t look pleased she nods, a clear sense of hope in her eyes even as she looks nervous.

She looses the first fight, and the second and third and fourth, but she gets better and better.

Tim doesn’t tell anyone about Carrie Kelly, nor does he tell her that he does end up doing a back ground check and finds two dead beat parents more focused on weed than their incredibly skilled daughter.

When she proves to be relentless in her desire to save lives he sends her to a teacher to help her stay hidden and safe. He’s not like Bruce, he doesn’t send her overseas to some dangerous people, but close by and to someone he trust to not hurt her nor tell anyone else about the strange young girl whose managed to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Selina Kyle is more than happy to take in the girl when she watches her sling shot fire crackers at muggers.

When Carrie comes back and meets Tim on a rooftop, she not only manages to hit him but knocks him off his feet.

Tim grins at her, pride filling his mind and making him understand Bruce just a little more.

But unlike Bruce, he isn’t throwing her into the fight at all.

Tim Drake is the one who pays for her school pills while her yippie parents refuse to work or spend money on her, and sends her real time footage of medical lectures in various collages across the country.

Carrie doesn’t become Robin, nor did she even wear that suit after the second night and he gave her a basic training outfit that properly covered her eyes and hair, but she does become something else.

She becomes Cardinal, the vigilante that swoops in to save civilians and provide the medical care that saves hundreds of people and allows the ambulances and hospitals to have a chance.

When she makes her debut the other bats worry about a new kid making bad choices, probably inspired by them, but Tim ignores it if only because he’s actually proud of her and trust her in a way he hasn’t trusted teammates in years.

After a year of this, a young girl asks for a meeting with Mister Tim Drake at his company and, purely so he wouldn’t have to do more pointless numbers, he lets her in after she passes the security check.

The girl who comes into his office is barely ten, cute little clips in her dark bob hair and a big book bag almost half her size behind her.

Tim recognised her instantly once he sees the bright yellow shoes she’s wearing.

This little girl, name Mia Mizoguchi, has been stalking him and Carrie for a few months now.

After he enrolled Carrie at Gotham Academy, the young girl nicknamed ‘Maps’ had been asking Carrie a lot of questions. Carrie had been good at avoiding incriminating answers, but had fallen for the younger girls clever trap as she casually spoke out infomation that could help with cases and Carrie delivered it back to Tim.

As soon as he realised that Maps had done exactly what he had done and figured out who Carrie was he was impressed. Because even if Carrie was new to the game, she had a skill for tricking people into looking away from her and had done well to stay low.

Maps had made the connection back to Tim, apparently.

Luckily, unlike Bruce, he wasn’t ignorant to their little stalker and actually knew her family from a few galas and charities. To be fair, Tim also wasn’t clouded by grief, but as he lets the girl explain how she totally doesn’t know who Red Robin is but if she did know who he was she would want him to know that a new drug trade route was actually being covered by a cotton candy company and she has over sixty pages worth of proof.

When he shows up to The Nest (named by Carrie) with Maps behind him, he finds Cardinal waiting with an excited gleam in her eyes.

Due to her being so young, Tim doesn’t allow Maps to go into the field until she’s the same age as both he and Carrie were, but she’s quick to show her worth taking over coms and doing an insanely detailed level of detective work that Tim can’t help but be a little jealous of.

Just like Carrie, who has been trying with Selina about only becoming Catgirl if Catwoman stops being a criminal for a few weeks now, he sends her to someone else for mentor ship.

Maps is a sweet girl, but she loves to talk and has a lot of friends who have most of the same interest, so he sends her to the one bat member he trust most.

Cassandra Cain immediately tells Tim that he has to adopt both of them and can’t quite understand why them both having living parents matters.

It’s Cass who gives Maps her vigilante name, Sparrow.

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beautifulpaprika · 5 months ago

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A Beast and a Bracelet (m)

pairing: fem!reader x beast!jk

warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, in the forest!

summary: You tried saving someone ... again. However, this group is large and bloodthirsty, and trying to lose them in a forest isn't working. Yet, when you find a cave, it seems to be your saving grace. Not because of what's in it, but who's in it.

word count: 8.7k

Branch after branch hits me in the face- my hair getting caught in the branches more than once as I run from the group of men after me.

“Stay out of the business of men, Y/N,” my father always told me. Of course, when I spotted the ready-to-beat-a-man in front of his children, I couldn’t sit back and chug a pint. I had nothing better to do. I didn’t think through the part where there were three of them and one of me.

The plan was running into the forest where the monster stories came from- stories of missing people and blood trails - in hopes they would be too afraid, but by the footfalls following close behind, I can safely determine they are not as fearful as I am of the forest.

I have no navigation in the pitch black and wood. My lungs feel ready to give up on me, and the noises I hear on my left sound a lot like something ready to pounce on me. But I keep running.

“Come on, brave one! You wanna jump in to our business? We can do this right now!” One of the men calls from behind me. I’m astounded they have the air to be able to catch up and yell at the same time.

I attempt a look behind me, my eyes glancing at a small light catching up. Panic rises in me and boils over, tears welling in my eyes, making finding safety even more difficult.

There’s a dark mass ahead- a cave surrounded by weeds and vines. Pictures of monsters with sharp teeth and blood dribbling down their chin appear in my mind.

“Get her!” one man calls out. They’re on my tail and I have to make a decision.

One foot in front of the other until it’s pitch black in the cave. My footsteps echo off of the cave wall and I almost slip in the mud. The sound of splashing water urges me to turn back. Something is in here, and it’s not a bunny.

I stick close to the wall, unmoving.

Unfortunately for me, a light shines in the cave.

“There you are,” the one in front says. They all have a hungry look in their eyes that tells me everything I need to know about their intentions.

My eyes sting from the tears welling. I should’ve listened to my father. I should’ve kept to myself.

The frontman grabs my arm, but I scream when his touch is gone as soon as it’s there.

Growling mixing with agonizing screams draws my attention. The light is suddenly gone -it’s pitch black and I hear the nervous panting of the other two men.

The screaming stops and my breath catches, not wanting the creature to hear me. It’s not a second longer when the screams start up and the crunching of bones and ripping and tearing of skin join it.

The gurgle from the second man doesn’t stop before the third one follows. The screams and noises last for a few moments longer. When it stops, I close my eyes. I’m preparing for the death that is to come, asking any forces out there to grant a quick death and for my father to never have to find me.

A huff in front of my face pushes my hair from my face.

I hate the pathetic whimper I give to the creature.

Its breathing is heavy and similar to that of a dog.

“I’m sorry I intruded,” I whine, “I didn’t know where else to go,” I whisper. It feels useless to ask for mercy from a creature that most likely can’t understand me.

However, it doesn’t seem as impossible as I thought when the huffing retreats from me. The hot air is gone, and I’m out of breath when I hear a splashing again- just like the one I heard when I came in.

I squint my eyes, trying to see rather than hear.

There’s a new panting sound coupled with coughing and spitting, but it sounds human. Nothing like the creature growling deep while it tore men to pieces.

Feet slap the wet floor, and I continue to hold my breath, not wanting to make any sudden movements.

“I know you’re there,” a voice calls. It doesn’t sound menacing or annoyed- more matter-of-fact than anything. Rustling sounds move from my right side to across from me.

A light appears, causing me to cover my eyes with my arm to adjust to the sudden brightness.

“A ‘thank you’ would have been nice,” the same voice is right in front of me now. I slowly lower my arm, not wanting to be bombarded by light again.

My eyes glide up to be met with a man’s curious gaze. The light shows off his raised eyebrows and glistening chest. His dark hair sticks to the sides of his face. He must have been the one who was making all the water sounds. I come back down, looking past his legs to the three bodies behind him. I gasp at their state. Torn limbs, popping eyes, frozen faces of shock.

“Oh, that,” he grimaces. “That is quite the mess I’ll have to clean,” he mumbles.

“Who are you?” I look back at him. “Did you do that? How-“

”None of these words sound like appreciation,” he crouches down, his head tilting. “Should I have let them have their way with you?” He asks. I look past him again, a rage boiling inside men from the thought of those torn-up hands being on me instead. I shake my head.

“I’m grateful,” my voice is low.

“Good enough for now,” he gets up again, moving back to the space across from me. “You can go,” he announces and I’m caught off guard by it.

That’s it?

He sets the light down as I stare in amazement. He’s already heaving one body over his shoulder without a struggle.

I slap myself for gawking at his back muscles and the marred skin as he takes one body and starts to carry it out.

The half-naked man stops in his tracks and slowly turns to me.

“You can leave at any time, bunny.” I have to stop myself from flinching at the pet name.

My mind becomes dizzy at the choices of staying or going. This man is new, a mystery, and I can’t help but be curious. He’s the one who saved me and I’m supposed to walk out as if nothing happened?

“I’d like to help,” before he can reject my offer, I’m picking up a ripped-off arm and a toe tossed away. Nausea rises in my body up to my throat, but I hold it back before I make even more of a mess.

I’m ready to follow the man out, but his body is fully turned to me now, the body still on his shoulder. I try avoiding his stare by walking past him, but he blocks me.

His eyes scan me from top to bottom. I shiver under his wandering eyes.

“What are you doing?”

”It’s the least I could do for intruding your. . . space,” I refer to the cave. “And it’s obvious you saved me from imminent death . . . And worse,” I gulp, and his eyes follow the movement in my throat.

I wait for him to say anything or reject my offer, but he doesn’t. He turns, the dead expression of the man on his shoulders flinging towards me. I gag at the wounds down his face.

“If you’re going to do that the whole way, I suggest you go home instead,” he tells me.

I shake my head, despite the fact that he can’t see me.

We trek out into the forest, carrying our bodies (and body parts). The lamp attached to his pants lights the way, but I can’t help looking at the way it drags his pants down his hips a tad. His skin is dry now and I notice the scars down his back more easily.

“You’ll need to clean up afterward,” he says before throwing the body in an empty spot between some trees. “Going home from this forest will have questions thrown at you enough, but coming back with blood? You won’t survive,” he explains.

I throw the hand and toe on the spot.

“You sound like you speak from experience,” it’s as if I have a death wish making such a suggestion, but he laughs it off. Maybe I’m not incorrect. After all, there’s a reason he lives in the cave.

He doesn’t say another word but turns to return to the cave.

“How long have you been out here?” I try to break the silence. He gives me a look. “You have a made bed and some supplies in that cave of yours, your hair is-” he gives me another look and I stop talking. The hair must be a sensitive topic.

“It's been a few years. . .”

The shock in my body slows my walking down. Years?

“Did you run away from home?”

“Something like that,” he shrugs.

I don't ask any more questions for fear of seeming more intrusive than I already am.

“Where is your pond of water?” I ask, trying to fling some of the blood on my fingers.

He freezes at the question.

“You have one. I heard it,” I walk further into the darkness, hoping to find the small body of water.

I notice something glistening and take a step towards it.

But then my feet lose their balance and my back is against the wall. Air leaves my lungs when the man’s face crowds mine, his hands caging me on both sides.

“Don’t. Touch. That. Water,” he’s panting and I can only see the left side of his face. The anger and anxiety cinching every feature.

I notice the splotch of blood sitting on his eyebrow and lick my finger to rub it off.

He flinches when my finger touches him, but his eyebrow doesn’t relax.

“I won’t touch it,” I promise. “I apologize,” I plea that he accepts the apology- my life being at risk and whatnot.

“You don’t owe me anything. Go home,” he breaks away from me turning to gather the next body.

“How do I know they won’t come for you? That you’ll be okay?” He freezes on the spot again. “I want to help!” I confess. I don’t want to prove my father right. Not about not being able to defend myself and not about being useless to this world.

He doesn't say a word but looks back at the body left torn on the ground. It's enough to answer my question.

“I think I'll be alright,” he says. He makes his way out of the cave and I follow after him.

“There are more guys then where that came from, I can promise you that! They’ll come looking,” I try. I try to convince him tha t we need each other. My hope is that he says yes and lets me figure out the mystery that he is.

“I handled three and I’ll handle more,” he grunts as he throws the body into the spot.

“How do you know people won’t find this?” I gesture to the pile of limbs.

“It’s still night. The monsters will take care of it. Monsters worse than me,” he says with a low voice, staring directly at me. The words do as he intended. With a shiver running down my spine, I’m officially afraid.

“I’ll go home,” I tell him, turning away ready to follow the tracks home.

“You do that,” he makes his way back to the cave.

“I‘ll be back tomorrow!” I call.

“No, you won’t!” He calls back before disappearing into the dark.

***

I keep my promise to return. This time I bring bread and treats with me, hoping something sweet is enough to tame the beast. I’m not sure what kind of beast he really is, but what does it matter if he doesn’t hurt me?

It’s clear I haven’t learned my lesson last night by getting into “men’s business”. This man is only half man, so it counts. I suppose.

A leaf crunches behind me, and I swivel to confront whoever’s following me, but Im only met with the sight of a misty forest wind moving through grass and dirt.

“Y-yeah! You better not fuck with me!” I cringe at my voice wavering on the swear word.

“You really spooked them away, bunny,” a deep chuckle sounds behind me.

I swirl to look at the scarred man, a smirk spreading across his face. He approaches me casually, like any man on the street would- except he has no shirt, and his hair is still tousled, and his pants are ripped in different areas.

“Your anxiety is palpable,” he says, tilting his head at me, while tapping a finger top my chin.

“I’m not scared of anything,” I lie.

“I know your idea here is to be brave, but you can’t be brave if you have nothing to fear,” his hand taps the sack hanging in my hand. “What’s this?” he asks.

I hold the bag to him, the smell of fresh bread and cake wafting around us.

“For you,” I push it towards him as his eyebrow lifts. “I don’t have any money, but my father and I can bake pretty well,” I shove it towards him again, but he continue s to stare at me. “Yes. It’s a bribe, but I’d like to show you that this team,” I point to him and myself, “can work out pretty well.”

“And why do you want to be a team?” he asks, his arms crossing over his chest, his biceps protruding. I gulp at them, then catch myself looking back at the man. The smirk tells me he noticed me checking him out.

“I’d like to do more in town, but with the risk of being killed, I can’t do it as much as I’d like. I want your help. For protection,” I propose. I realize the more I talk, the more my body caves in. I quickly adjust to lift my chin and he chuckles at me.

His eyes narrow, then surprise. I try to process the shock on his face.

“You-” his arms uncross and I wait for his words.

“What?” I ask. His eyes cut deep into mine and I suddenly feel awkward in my spot.

He relaxes again, back to his normal composure. “You’ve got a deal,” he announces. Before I can ask him what that was, he’s already turning away and heading in the opposite direction. I try to make out some of the shapes in his back.

I quickly avert my eyes when he looks back at me and start to follow him.

“I brought some other things as well,” I show the bag in my other hand. “Another peace offering, but also . . . basic hygiene,” I shake the bag in excitement. The girls in town never let me braid their hair, but it’s alright. There’s someone who needs my services more anyway.

He doesn’t say much, only continues to walk and even cleans sticks and rocks from the ground.

“It’s a bit useless to clean the forest isn’t it?” I ask.

“It’s meant to be a path, so that you can easily find your way back and forth,” his words catch me off guard. It’s a small gesture, but it’s nice to know he’s keeping me in mind when he does.

I gawk at him for a few moments longer until the noise of running water breaks me out of the trance. We come up on a small creek dug into the ground. This is no cave.

“I didn’t see this last night,” I whisper.

“We didn’t come here last night,” he points out. I give him a questioning look, for him to answer in a shrug, “You said you have a few things for hygiene and a couple of treats - let’s have a picnic, bunny,” I shake my head at the nickname.

“Why do you call me that?”

“I’m big. You're small. I thought that was obvious,” he raises a branch for me and I pass through.

“It wasn’t that obvi-”

“Where did you say you came from?” he suddenly asks from behind me.

“I come from the town just outside of here,” I tell him, turning to face him. He hums in answer. “Have you ever been there? It’s right outside of this forest,” his face scrunches, contemplating.

“I’m from the cave, that’s it. Now that we’ve gotten introductions out of the way-” he pulls the torn-up pants down his legs and I gasp at the muscles on him. He could crush a man’s head with those thighs. “Let’s get to that wash,” he says, a hint of excitement touching his tone.

He steps down, slowly, into the water.

I put a fingertip in the water. I hiss at the cold, but he seems entirely unphased. He seems to enjoy it if anything.

I admire the way he’s able to bask in the cold water.

“Alright, what’s next, bunny? Where’s the soap at?” he calls.

“How do you know about soap?” I had assumed he never joined society. I gather my bag, bringing out soap, sponge, a hairbrush, and a pair of nail clippers. I grab the hairbrush first, waving him over.

“I haven’t always been out here,” he explains, slowly making his way towards me. His back faces me, and despite him being taller than me, I still can’t reach him at a comfortable position.

“Can you just . . . come a little closer?” I reach again, only able to reach so far without falling into the water.

He leans backwards, not able to step back without slipping on the tilted creek floor. I reach for his hair, and I’m able to brush it, but the angle is uncomfortable. I try to brush the strands lower, by his neck, but my arms quickly tire.

“Hold on- Just-” I say, trying to fix my posture.

His head turns to give me a side-eye, and I watch him roll his eyes.

“I know something that might help,” he gestures to me to lean over just a bit more. I try my best to have my body hover over the water without falling in.

The man leans over to grab me underneath my arms - my scream muffled by the water rushing into my mouth. My feet are able to reach the ground and thrust me to the surface.

My ears fill with the sound of his laughter once they clear out. I turn to him slowly, the cold water causing my eyes to twitch and my body to shiver . . . Or is that the anger?

“What is wrong with you!” I swear the birds get spooked at my yelling. “I am trying to help.”

“You're trying to butter me up. I already said I would do what you asked, there’s no need to cater to me any more,” his arms reach up to brush his hair back, but his fingers catch easily in the knots. “I brush with my fingers,” he says, proudly.

Despite my anger, I draw closer to him, his breathing slowing as he looks down at me.

“While brushing with fingers could work . . .” I start. I grab his arm and pull him to where his back is facing me again. I try not to stare at the obvious scars in different sizes and shapes running down his back. “It’s not going to do all the work. Trust me, the brush will make you feel lighter.” The weight of my clothing drags me down a smidge but I ignore it. I start at the bottom of his long, dark strands. I expect to hear a ‘hiss’ or feel a flinch on some of the knots, but he doesn’t. He actually seems relaxed. His head leans back and a hum occasionally sounds from him.

I pour more water on his head, following the line down his spine until it meets the water at his waist. I admire hsi figure, dragging a finger down the same path as the water, sometimes detouring to some of the scars.

I kick myself out of the trance, and when I look back up to focus on the hair again, his head is already slightly turned to look at me.

“Um, I’m sorry. I got curious,” I admit.

“About?”

“What your skin would feel like. I don’t think I’ve seen so many scars,” I say. His eyebrows pinch. “I don’t mean that as a bad thing. It’s new. And intriguing. And you should tell me about them,” I add a smile, hoping it’s enough to convince him.

“You ask for a lot. I’ve saved your life, isn’t that enough from me? If anything I should be asking you for more,” his arms cross. I snort at how pouty it makes him look.

“Well, I’m brushing your hair aren’t I? You know how many other men’s hair I’ve brushed?”

He turns in genuine interest.

“No one. No other man’s hair! And!” I reach for the bag sitting on the edge of the creek, ready to fall in. I dig through the bag, revealing another gift - a bar of lavender soap. “How many people have I given soap to? Zero,” I push it towards him, the bar leaving white residue on my fingers.

He reluctantly takes it, eyeing it, then me, then it.

“I’m not sure this is the compliment you-”

“Ungratefulness is not very becoming of you,” I interrupt.

His eyes peer up at me from under his eyelashes. “I’m still a bit sore, you know, from saving your life,” he says. I nod in understanding. “I’ll need help using this,” he hands me the bar.

I freeze my hands from playing with the water. I scan his face for any sign of joking, but he continues to hold it to me.

I take it, and he steps closer immediately, his body towering over mine. My attempt at not appearing nervous doesn’t work.

“I’ll do it if you can answer one question,” I tell him. He rolls his eyes but agrees. “Why is the water in the cave off-limits but the creek isn’t?” He’s initially annoyed by the question, but I watch him relax.

“It changes me. It’s the reason I was able to become the monster that helped you,” he flinches when I start to lather him in soap. Creek water isn’t the cleanest, but it’s all I have to make the soap softer. “The reason I couldn’t let you go in it is because it’s not something you easily come out of,”he explains. My hand trails over his abdomen and up his sides, he inhales sharply, but recovers quickly.

“What exactly do you turn into?”

“Half human, half dog, half beast. There are too many ways to describe it. It doesn’t help that at first you aren’t aware that you’re something else. It takes a couple of tries to not lose your mind. Some have succumbed to the madness, and others take it, go into town, cause chaos, and get themselves killed.” His eyes are distant as he talks. There’s something that tells me he is talking from experience. “It doesn’t help that when I take that form of the beast, it drains my energy. My human energy isn’t meant for a big body with that strength. It’s draining.”

“Are you the only one now, besides me, who knows about it?” I reach his neck, noticing a big difference in cleanliness.

He nods in answer.

“You haven’t lost your mind, though. Why are you different?” he shrugs at my question.

“I had a good mentor, at first,” his eyes turn down, “I also had a lot of motivation, I guess,” he holds his arms forward for me to wash.

“What was your motivation?”

He waits - the crickets nearby and the trees still.

“You’ve asked much more than one question now. The focus should be on getting this dirt off of me,” he wades over to the edge. “You should get my legs too,” he lifts one onto the wall and I screw my eyes shut, squealing- the sound of his laughter a massage to my brain.

***

The next day it’s raining. I cover myself with the sack that I brought for Jungkook (a name I learned while I was soaping his legs - truly a heartwarming moment.) This time it has a few shirts I stole from my father.

Jungkook told me I shouldn’t come back again at the risk of someone catching onto the fact that I was going into the forest too often. Judging by the trees surrounding me, I didn’t listen. I’ve checked my surroundings a million times before coming in.

A noise behind me makes me jump, but I start humming to soothe the nerves. I brought Jungkook a small cupcake with a bunny iced on the top. It’s a bit wet now from the rain, but I’m almost certain he’ll still like it.

After our day at the creek yesterday, I feel like he knows me better than anyone. The only thing I haven’t figured out is why he decides to stay out here instead of joining the rest of society. Well, when I truly think about it, I guess I can understand why he wouldn’t want to.

I release a breath when I arrive at the cave, grateful that I didn’t forget where it is.

“Jungkook?” I call as I walk in. My lantern is able to light up the slick walls. There’s running and shuffling until I approach him. He’s sitting criss-cross on the ground on a sheet, wide-eyed and open mouthed. “Jungkook? What are you doing?” I slowly approach him.

“Nothing. Sitting here,” he says it too quickly to believe him.

“What do you have behind you?”

“What’s that in your hand?” he nods to the cupcake I’m holding- the picture of the bunny looks a bit sad now. I don’t miss the way he decided to change the subject, but I can’t be bothered to bring it back up. He’ll have to move eventually.

“It was a cupcake,” I step closer and sit in front of him, he tenses a bit, “but the rain kind of . . .” I show it to him. He looks at it and I think I see a smile spreading across his face. I have to check twice that it’s not a teasing smile, but what I thought was true. He’s looking at it fondly.

He reaches for it, releasing whatever’s behind him.

“Thanks, Bunny,” he says. He doesn’t eat it but sets it beside him instead.

“Are you going to tell me what’s behind you now?” I ask. He’s right back to being tense. His mouth opens and closes, resembling a fish, and before he can say anything else, a voice yells out. We freeze and look out the mouth of the cave.

“Where the fuck did she go?” a man yells out again. Even with the rain, I can hear him clearly, meaning he’s too close. “Keep going! That bitch definitely had something to do with their disappearance!” he announces.

They know. They must be friends of those men’s whose bodies we dumped - and they followed me here.

Shit. How many times do I have to tell myself that I should have listened?

“Jungkook . . .” I whisper, but he’s already standing when I turn.

“Stay here. I’ll take care of it,” he demands. The gentle Jungkook who accepted my soggy cupcake is gone - replaced with a Jungkook who looks ready to drown someone in the very creek water we swam in.

“I’ll come with you,” I get ready to stand.

“Y/N . . . I appreciate it, but please don’t. It was always me who was supposed to take care of it. I’d feel a lot better if you stayed here,” with that, he jumps in the water. Meanwhile, I’m still caught up in how he knew my name. Jungkook may have fessed up his own, but I never did the same.

His beast rushes out of the water and I have no time to take a glance at him. His gray skin is the only thing I spot paired with a panting noise as he runs out.

Waiting in the cave for a mere three seconds is already torture. The waiting is agony especially when I can’t hear anything and not knowing how many followed me into the forest.

I occupy myself by looking around the cave, not that there’s much to look at. I spot the thing Jungkook was holding behind his back. It looks like a bracelet but made with flowers and grass. I smile at it. Jungkook hiding his soft side makes the bracelet all the more special.

A roar yanks my attention away. Yelling and screams rise above the rain from multiple people- more than three. I can’t just sit here. I can’t.

The rain drops are cool against my skin and I pick up a long stick as I run in the direction of the chaos.

My confidence in being able to help is not high, but my motivation is. There’s a pained whimper this time from Jungkook. My feet move faster now. It doesn’t matter if they can hear me coming to them as long as I’m able to get there- as long as he isn’t alone.

A choked sound comes from below me. One of the men Jungkook dealt with reaches out with the one arm he has left. His mouth forms the words “Help me,” but I look away before he can say anything else.

Leaves crunching and sounds of a struggle lead me to a clearing. Bodies are scattered in every part of the clearing, unmoving. There are a few bodies beyond the trees as well. This was much more than the three men Jungkook dealt with in the cave.

The beast himself sits in the middle. His skin is gray and slimy with hair in very few places. This form is indeed much bigger than the Jungkook I know.

I quickly approach without saying a word and examine his condition. He’s lying on his side, his breathing shallow. There are a few scratches on his sides and a gash down his face. He’s exhausted and I think back to when he said the beast form is not meant for him to stay in for a long time. His body exhausts easily and if he used a majority of it on fighting these men-

Damn it. I should’ve asked what happens when that energy is spent. Of all the times I have been nosy in my life and I couldn’t do it in such a crucial moment.

Jungkook’s beast eye peers up at me and huffs. I ignore the scolding and focus on how I’m going to help him. The pond is too big to be brought to him, so I’m going to have to bring him to it. I don’t let the thought of “How?” linger in my mind too long before I’m picking up his legs and dragging him with as much force as I can bear.

His groan is quiet behind me.

“Don’t speak! Don’t do anything!” I yell. I avoid one or two bodies. I haven’t made it far and my arms and back are aching.

“Use your legs, or you’ll do some damage to your back,” Father’s words echo in my mind. He’s told me so many wise things and yet I can never listen. It’s how I’m in this predicament in the first place. It’s the reason Jungkook is dying.

My throat closes as tears well up in my eyes.

“I’m not letting you die.”

***

Jungkook is practically on the brink of death when I dump him in the pool of water. The lantern lights the red stringing through the water and I cross my fingers that he doesn’t drown.

“Please, please, please,” I whisper, screwing my eyes shut, a tear falling as a result. “You’re my only friend, Jungkook. . .” I whisper. “Don’t leave.”

As soon as the words escape me, a head surfaces above the water. I’m on my knees in an instance reaching for him. He’s still very heavy when I pull him in, but nothing compared to when he was the beast.

“You’re okay!” I wrap my arm around his neck and pull him in. He hugs me back for only a second before I feel his body limp and fall. “Jungkook? Jungkook!” I call for him, but his breathing is weak. I pull him to where his sheet is, laying him gently. His eyes close and he enters sleep. I notice a bit of blood dripping down his face and sides from the battle.

I make sure his breathing is okay then leave him to rush back into town on a mission to take anything that could save him.

***

It’s the second day since Jungkook was attacked and it’s raining again. He’s woken up a few times for water, but nothing else. The bandages on his waist glare at me as I sit on the opposite side of the cave, humming a song, playing with the bracelet he has yet to finish.

“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” his voice pipes up. I rush to him, a cup of water in hand from the creek. “I’d thought at least by now-” I put a finger to his lips- the rasp of his voice anxiety inducing.

“You need to save your energy. We can talk when you’re back to being normal,” I tip the cup into his mouth, and he takes it. When I’m done, he sits up despite my protests.

“I thought you liked the fact I wasn’t normal,” he whispers, his eyes off in the distance. I ignore the words seeing as that’s not my priority. “And I’m not talking about now. I’m talking about back then,” he meets my eyes now, then glides down to the bracelet I’m wearing. I’m ready to question what he means when I look at the bracelet.

It’s like a key now. A key to a memory I put away a long time ago.

***

11 years ago

“Keep crying. ‘S not like there’s anyone who’s gonna help you,” the blonde kid, nicknamed Jester, hits the boy again and I flinch behind the wall. “Where’s your parents?” Kicks him again and gestures for his friend to join in - and he does.

I can’t watch this anymore.

“Stop fucking with me-” before Jester can kick him again, I jump in, putting my body in front of the one who’s on the ground.

“What is wrong with you two!” I yell out.

“Mind your business, Y/N!” he tries to push me but I won’t budge. Finally, my height does something other than be the butt of every joke in town. Father always said I was an early bloomer and that my height could be an advantage. I didn’t see that until now.

“Fuck you!” I spit at him, surprised at my own cursing. If he was angry before, he’s enraged now. His fist reels back, and I see it coming, but the boy behind me rushes him, tackling Jester. His friend looks to me. Before he can make any moves, I rush up to him and swing my leg up to his middle, hitting my target right between the legs.

“Run!” I yell. With one down we should be okay.

The boy gets off of the blonde and runs to me, taking my hand and leading me into the forest. I don't know where he's taking me, but if I saved him that means he won't hurt me, right?

We slow to a cave entrance. He turns to me, but doesn’t say anything.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, noticing the cut under his eye. He nods, still not saying a word. “Those boys are assholes,” I cover my mouth at the bad word. “Sorry, but it’s true,” he laughs at me. I can’t believe he’s laughing at me after I saved his life. Then, I find myself laughing with him and it’s strange.

He gestures for me to follow him deeper in the forest.

We find a spot where he finally kneels on the ground and I follow.

“Do they usually pick on you?” I ask. He nods slowly and moves his sleeve to show scars and fresh cuts on his shoulder. I make the note in my mind that next time I’ll bring something to help heal those.

His hands work and kneed in the grass and grabs a few flowers that are scattered in different places. I see a bug on the trunk of the tree, my eyes trailing up the tree trunk that it travels. Where is it going to go?

A tap on my shoulder takes my attention away. I look down at the boy holding a small bracelet in his hands. He holds it to me, and I take it, trying not to break it. The little flowers spread throughout it tickle my hand.

“For me?” I ask and he nods his head.

“It’s to say ‘Thank You’,” my heart is surprised when I finally hear his voice.

“Hey. You wanna be my friend? I don’t have any,” I say.

His head moves so fast up and down. Finally! I found someone who likes me!

***

“You. . .” I whisper to him, his heavy eyelids covering his eyes staring back at me.

“Me,” he looks at the bracelet sitting in the palm of his hand. I’m grateful he’s distracted while I process the new revelations.

I push up from the ground and head for the exit, quickly stepping out into the rain.

“Y/N? Y/N!” he calls from behind me. I ignore him and try to keep my tears at bay. “Stop!” he yells. I hate that I do as he says, as if I’m his dog. He steps in front of me, and I turn away. “What’s wrong? Did I say something?” He tries to make eye contact with me and when I refuse, he uses a finger on my chin, the touch heating my face.

“You can try to remind me of the good memories, Jungkook, but don’t forget those good times lasted for a week and you left,” I try to tame the way my voice is breaking. “You were my first friend and then you disappeared. I thought I was cursed for months!” a tear rolls down my cheek. He blinks. Once. Twice. “I get it. That was a long time ago and maybe it didn’t matter to you, but it does to me,” he shakes his head.

“Of course it matters, Y/N. You were my only friend and-”

“Then why did you leave me? Why didn’t you say anything? I risked so much going into the woods to find you.” Scenes of 10 year-old me play out in my head - screaming for Jungkook to come back until my throat itched, poisoning and rashes running down my legs.

“It was going to be my first time in the pool,” his voice is low, “I wasn’t ready, but my mother was dying. Your very precious town was sending search parties to hunt us down. She couldn’t protect herself or me anymore, so I had to do it. I didn’t want to scare you,” his hand lowers back to his side and he takes a deep breath. “I was going through weeks of training myself and when my mom died and I got a hold of it, I went to try and find you, but I wasn’t finding you and it was too risky,” he explains.

My heart cracks at the mention of his mother. I know what it’s like to lose a parent, but he only had her.

“You should have told me. . .”

“I wanted to. Trust me, Y/N. I did. But I wanted to figure out everything first before I jumped into it with you. I was also a kid at the time too. I didn’t have someone to guide me. Everyone hated me without being a beast. Could you imagine my fear of what would happen if they found out I am one? Especially with all the rumors and stories going around?” he argues. It’s a solid explanation. This was a long time ago and we were children. “When I saw you again and recognized that it was you, something I wanted more than anything, is for you not to be afraid of me. Your opinion, after a week, was the most important to me.”

Tears start to well up again.

“Just like your opinion is most important to me now,” he whispers, stepping closer. I swallow the lump in my throat. His hair sticks to the sides of his head, some strands covering his eyes that are looking down at me. Goosebumps spread up and down my arms as heat bubbles in my stomach.

“If you’re lying-”

“Don’t even think that,” he takes another step closer. I gasp when his hand wraps around my waist and pulls me to him, our chests touching and my hands resting on his arms. My thoughts are a jumbled mess and all I can ask is how this escalated so quickly. “Don’t go this time. I know I always tell you to leave, but I’m telling you to stay now.”

My eyes blink and I’d like to blame it on the raindrops falling into my eyes, but I’m afraid to admit it’s because of how flustered I am at the stare he’s giving me.

“And where do you get off on telling me what to do?”

“Can I be honest?”

“I’d like it if you were.”

“I think you like it when I tell you what to do.” It’s not the words I was expecting, but I don’t dislike it either. It’s also not false. “Do you want me, Y/N?” he whispers on my lips. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” I say it a bit too quickly.

Just when I think he’s going to plant his lips on mine, he instead asks, “Why?” The question is not hard to answer, but it is one that is difficult to say.

“You’re the only person who makes me feel wanted in return,” I tell him. It’s honest and a much better answer than ‘You’re really hot’. “I don’t want to lose you, Jungkook,” I admit. “So, if you’re going to leave again you might as well-”

His soft lips interrupt me - finally!

A list of things I could be doing right now scrolls through my mind, yet none of them seem as important or as enticing as this is. If I could describe what this kiss is like, I don’t think that I could. No one has kissed me like this in the past. Nothing in the world can compare to the way that he holds me tightly against him, massaging the skin on my waist, while our mouths move in sync and rainwater mixes in with our saliva.

His hands place pressure on hips and I respond by moving backward until I hit a tree. Now that I have back support, his lips push into me harder and I whimper into his mouth. He responds with a moan that runs straight to my core.

We separate, breathing into each other.

“It’s raining,” I say, my clothing completely stuck to me by now.

“It’s not gonna stop me, but tell me if it’s going to stop you,” he brushes a hair away from my face and that’s when I can’t wait anymore. I want him too much to stop now, so I shake my head in answer.

“I don’t want anything else to stop us,” I hook my fingers into his loose pants and bring him closer. The corner of his lips tilt up and his fingers crawl on the side of my neck before pulling me closer to him.

The only thing I can pray for is that there are no more men who have decided to take on Jungkook and are still lurking in the forest, but that seems to be the last thing on his mind when he grinds into me. I moan into his mouth and he swallows it before leaning down to kiss my neck. I arch into him as he gets lower at the same time tickling the skin under my shirt as he lifts it up and over my head.

The rain is cold on me, but it’s worth it when his eyes stay on my perky nipples.

“I-” he gulps. Not so mouthy now.

“You can touch me, if you want,” I hate the way I sound so eager. I thought I would be able to play it cool, similar to the time I first lost my virginity (with a complete douchebag), but Jungkook makes me too nervous to ‘play it cool’. The way his eyes darken when he scans every inch of me, and the way he looks ready to devour me does the opposite of calming me down.

I can only pray to any force out there that I make him feel the way he makes me feel.

“I’ll do more than touch,” the palm of his hand skims the side of my breast, and he leans in. “I’ll do anything to show you you’re mine,” he whispers into my ear. The adrenaline is almost too much - I’m aching for him.

“Then show me what it’s like to be yours,” I whisper back.

He doesn’t look at me, his eyes stay on my lips for a few moments, then he moves down, taking one tit into his mouth leaving me breathless. His fingers tweak the other one, occasionally switching.

“Jungkook- ah!” I gasp. He presses and gropes, then instant repeats. His skin is touching mine in every spot while his tongue continues its ministrations on my chest. I grab onto his hair in case I faint and lean my head onto the tree. The worry of getting bugs on me disappears when he nibbles on my skin.

“I can’t wait much longer,” he sighs when coming back up. His fingers slide into my pants, and push into the space between my legs. I don’t expect it and cry into his mouth. “I don’t want to rush, bunny, but I can tell you’re as desperate as I am.”

I want to argue that I’m not, but it would be a lie. And it’s hard to argue with his fingers pumping in and out of me. He starts to kiss on my neck while his thumb joins in rubbing my clit. I feel a tension building in my stomach, then the knot unties and I release onto his hand.

I’m still on my high when his fingers slip out and he licks them clean. I watch him and I’m prepared to do anything for this man. He already looks fucked out and I haven’t done anything to him. His hair is a mess but it’s a result of the rain mixed with my fingers moving it every which way.

“Now I know you’re ready,” he pants. His pants fall to the ground, revealing the hard-on standing up. It isn’t fair that even his cock is perfect too.

His eyes fall to my pants.

“Can I. . . ?” he asks. I nod, slow.

His hands are gentle as he peels my pants down my legs. I’m suddenly self-conscious when they come down, afraid of him spotting any hair or any marks but if he notices them, he doesn’t bring them up.

“I’ve been thinking about this the past few days. How I’ll make you mine, how I’ll make you scream for me, how I’ll take care of you every day after. . .” He rambles before putting his lips on me again, the kiss frantic and wild, our tongues mixing all while pulling me closer, his hands move to my bare ass. “Jump,” he whispers, and I follow his instruction.

My back hits the tree and our centers touch, bare skin to bare skin. It’s almost overwhelming. I feel as if I’m going to fall, but he makes it look so easy holding me. My heart grows ten times.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He draws me out of my head with a curious glance. I shrug, not really knowing how to explain it, but he still doesn’t move, waiting. “Are you regretting this?”

I hit him on the shoulder. “How could you say that when I’m still here and fully naked mind you!”

“Then what was that look?”

“I just . . .” I pause. It’s nerve-wracking to be vulnerable in front of him. I’m already naked physically, but to be emotionally naked is different. “I keep thinking about how perfect you are.” There’s a surprise written all over his face. “Don’t think for a second I would regret this, even if we are in the middle of a downpour,” I instruct.

A small smile appears on his face.

“You’re perfect for me,” he plants a kiss on my lips before he turns his attention down to adjust himself. He slides into me slowly and a whimper leaves my throat. His hand soothes me, massaging the skin on my butt.

His head falls onto my shoulder, and we stay like that for a few moments as he inches in.

When he starts to move, I already feel the tree scratching my bare back, but I don’t mind the pain with pleasure.

Every part of the front of me slides against him and the rest of my body feels sticky from the humidity. It’s messy, but I can’t imagine this any other way.

His breathing grows heavy as he thrusts into me. His jaw is clenched as he lifts me up and down.

“You’re beautiful. I wish you could see what I’m seeing,” he breathes. “Y/N, oh God, Y/N,” he groans. His words set off a spark in me bigger than before. It’s good to know that even when I’m naked, sticky, messy, he can still see me as beautiful. “I should’ve kept those guys alive and let them watch,” his tone is different now. “I should have let them watch what they couldn’t have.”

“Jungkook, pelase -”

He balances me on one arm, using the other to hold the side of my head while he kisses me.

“I’m almost- oh gosh,” I cry, but before I can jump over the edge he slides out of me. “Jungkook? What are you-?”

I hold onto him when he moves and puts me onto the wet dirt. It’s cold and slushy at first, then warms up at the same time Jungkook hovers over me.

“This is how I always dreamt about you with me,” he says, and slides into me again, my heels locking around his waist and on his back. His body weight rests on me as he moves again and his head falls into my neck.

It doesn’t take long to get me right back to the edge, and from the way his thrusts are getting messier, he’s going to meet me there.

“Jungkook!” I cry as I spill onto him and he does the same.

I notice it’s not raining anymore when all the noise and movement stops.We lay there for a few moments in the quiet after he slides out of me, however, his weight is still resting on me.

“Is your penis gone when you turn into a beast?” I ask, killing the silence. He laughs into my shoulder then lifts his head.

“Why? Do you wanna fuck him too?” he suggests. I smack his shoulder. “Thank you, by the way. I know dragging a beast the same weight of a tree was not the easiest. You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I had to,” I argue. “You’ve saved me more than once now. The least I could do was try one time.”

“You helped me twice, actually,” he says. I’m back to when we were kids.

“And there might be many more times after this,” I put a hand on his cheek.

“And I’ll save you each,” he plants a kiss on my lips, “and every,” another kiss, “time,” a more passionate one. We stay naked on that floor for hours, looking up into the trees, wondering what life or death situation we’ll have to save each other from tomorrow.

#bts #bts imagines #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook bts #jungkook smut

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ellecdc · 9 months ago

Note

Hi! I’m back 😬. I’m still extremely new to requesting so feel no pressure to write this soon. I was thinking of quiet!reader, who gets nervous when she is around Regulus and instantly starts saying the most out of pocket things and being chatty to fill in the silence. Regulus finds this amusing and usually keeps a serious, quiet demeanor to hear the weird things that come out of her mouth. 😊

looolllll the second I got this request it made me think of that Philomena Cunk meme on TikTok where people were like 'me whenever the conversation lulls' - so I had to borrow that quote!!! (let me know if you find it). Thanks so much for requesting babes - hope you love it 🫶

Regulus Black x quiet!fem reader (who can't shut up around him)

The world was out to get you, that much you were certain of. You were certain of this fact because this was the third time this week that your table in the library had somehow attracted the elusive Regulus Arcturus Black.

Usually, this would not be an issue. In fact, one could argue this was a rather nonissue, seeing as you were sort of embarrassingly completely infatuated with the aggravatingly quiet boy in your year.

However, it appeared that the company of one Regulus Arcturus Black short-circuited some fundamental part of your brain which caused you to blurt out the most asinine comments known to all of wizardingkind – nay – humankind. The universe has never seen the likes of such horrible conversation.

It went a little like this:

Earlier in the week you had set up your arithmancy homework out in front of you at your favourite table in the library. It was your favourite table because it had a window view, but that window view was the least distracting window view in the whole library. It also was the perfect distance to a fireplace, meaning you could manage to stay warm in the stone castle during the cold Scottish winters.

Unfortunately, it seemed, the table didn’t give you a good vantage point to alert you when one Regulus Arcturus Black made an appearance.

“Mind if I sit here?” A quiet voice startled you out of your calculations, causing you to overturn a pot of ink in front of you.

“Fucking Merlin and Morgana! I- oh, erm, uh, no I uhm, fuck.” You sputtered as you split your attention between the boy standing across from you and the pool of ink quickly making its way towards your skirt.

With a non-descript flick of Regulus’ wand, the mess was gone – though the damage to your parchment was unsalvageable.

“Oh, uhm, thanks. Sorry I – erm, have a seat. Although, you might not be safe!” You tried to joke but your voice came out disturbingly high, and the (failed) ‘joke’ made you flush hot with shame.

“I’m usually way cooler than this.” You tried to argue, before you realized that someone way cooler definitely wouldn’t have just said that.

Regulus was either unbothered by your horrifying actions or chose to ignore them. He opened his textbooks and began taking notes like you weren’t even there, while you sat in the most awkward and uncomfortable silence of your entire life.

It wasn’t long before you decided you couldn’t take it anymore, standing abruptly – so abruptly, in fact, that you had to quickly save another pot of ink from spilling – and began hastily gathering your things. Regulus did look up at this, and his eyes on you seemed to cause another malfunction to your central nervous system.

“Well, I must be off. I have other homework to dump ink on.” You said, except you didn’t deliver the sentence as a joke and it sounded all too believable – paired with your actions today, and you were certain he believed that’s exactly what you were off to do.

“Toodaloo.” You called and ran from the library.

Toodaloo!?!?! Are you fucking serious!?!! TOODALOO. Oh gods.

You didn’t dare return to the library the following day.

The day after that, though? It was fair game.

You were once again sitting at your favourite table and had ensured you placed a sticking charm on the bottom of your ink pots to avoid any more unfortunate accidents, when the clearing of a throat interrupted your studies.

“Mind if I sit here?” Regulus asked quietly, motioning to the seat across from you.

He’s kidding, right? After what happened two days ago, he can’t possibly want to sit with you?

Nonsense, perhaps this is just his favourite table in the library too.

You were determined this time not to make a fool of yourself.

“Have you finished the rune translations for Professor Babbling, yet?” Regulus asked.

No, the world was definitely out to get you.

“I, erm, I’ve started it. I believe it references the magic practiced by the Egyptians during the Predynastic period. Quite interesting stuff, Ancient Egypt. Did you know that Egyptians believed the most significant thing you could do in your life was die?”

You were talking a mile a minute. You knew this to be true due to the fact that your tongue was actually tripping over your words, but while your brain was shouting shut up shut up shut up shut up, your mouth just kept moving.

“Is that so?” Regulus asked, his eyes squinting ever so slightly as he scrutinized you.

“I don’t know actually.” You admitted, realizing you may have just lied to Regulus Black about Ancient Egypt. “I, I suppose I meant that they put way more emphasis on death than life.” You cringed again. “I don’t know if that’s true either – it’s just, it’s... it's the pyramids!” You shouted desperately, earning you a shush from the librarian.

“The pyramids?” He asked incredulously, a smile playing on his lips.

He was making fun of you, surely.

“Yup. Pyramids.” You squeaked, turning your face back towards your textbook.

“And you got all of that from the runes translation?”

Your face burned in shame.

“Uhm, no. The runes said no such thing. I just…know things.”

“You know things?”

“Right like, uhm, oh apparently Shakespeare didn’t actually write any of the works attributed to his name. Did you know that? William Shakespeare’s parents were illiterate - which doesn’t necessarily mean much because, perhaps he became learned later in life, right? However, William Shakespeare’s own children were also illiterate. I mean, what famous playwright wouldn’t teach their children to read? It’s all bollocks.”

You had to catch your breath at the end of your tangent.

“That’s a bold claim.” Regulus said plainly.

Fucking hells, was it hot in here?

“Right, well, erm. I have to go.” You said as you gathered your things and rushed towards the door.

“Uhm, Y/N?” Regulus called.

“Yes?”

“Your wand?”

You looked back at the table and, sure enough, your wand sat forgotten in your place.

“Right, thanks. Uhm, best of luck on the rune’s translation. Let me know if you need help and erm, uhm, I - bye!”

You stayed out of the library for two days after that.

Which brought you to today. You decided to try to save yourself the humiliation and Regulus the hassle of having to sit with you by finding a different table. You would leave your favourite table to Regulus if it meant saving yourself the embarrassment of uttering absolute nonsense to your schoolgirl crush.

What you had forgotten, however, was how the world was absolutely 100% without a doubt out to get you.

“Mind if I sit here?” Regulus asked quietly, causing you to look up so quickly and, not being used to this table and unaware of the fact that you were sitting under a light sconce, you smacked your head rather painfully in the action.

“Son of a fucking dugbog.” You spat miserably as you rubbed at the sore spot already producing a lump on your head.

“Why?” You all but screeched.

Regulus tilted his head at you as one of his eyebrows raised. “Why?”

“Yes, why.”

“Why what?”

“Oh for – why do you want to sit with me?!”

He looked close to smiling as he scrutinized your form. “Do you not want to sit with me?”

“Of course I want to sit with you!” You admitted embarrassingly - and loudly - earning you a shush from the librarian.

“So, I can sit here then?”

You groaned and let your head thump onto the table in front of you – at least now you’d have a matching lump on the front of your head too.

“At the risk of me making a total and utter fool of myself? Sure, be my guest.”

You swore you heard him chuckle under his breath as he pulled the chair out across from you. You didn’t dare lift your head, however. Perhaps if you couldn’t see his piercing silver gaze, or his adorable black curls, or his stupid smirk, then maybe you wouldn’t be forced to say something ridiculous.

“What? No fun facts for me today?” Regulus – the arse – asked from across from you.

You raised your head slightly, though left your shoulders at table level as you levelled him with a glare.

“You’re doing this to me on purpose, aren’t you? What, you get off on me making a fool of myself?”

Regulus smirked, though something in his eyes turned a little soft as he spoke. “I don’t think you make a fool of yourself.”

You scoffed and let your head fall back to its previous spot with a thud. “You’re an arse and a liar, Regulus Black.”

“Okay, perhaps you’ve been a little foolish.” He conceded, causing you to groan into the woodgrain of the table. “But I’ve enjoyed every second of it.”

Your head snapped up at that, and even Regulus grimaced as he watched you just barely miss the light sconce behind you.

“You’ve…enjoyed me making a fool of myself?” You asked incredulously.

Regulus moved his head back and forth in a sort of ‘so-so’ gesture. “I’ve enjoyed getting to listen to you. Why do you think I’ve been asking to sit with you all week?”

Apparently, your table wasn’t Regulus’ favourite table. Or at least, that wasn’t what made it his favourite – it was the fact that you had been sitting there that had made it so.

And ever since then, whatever table you were sitting at in the library – one would likely find Regulus Black there too.

#ask elle #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #regulus black imagine #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black #regulus black blurb #regulus black fluff #marauders era #ellecdc fics

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yikes-aemond · 3 months ago

Text

I love you. It's ruining my life. (Part IV)

pairing: Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader (no descriptions of reader except that she wears dresses and has long hair)

warnings: canon typical violence, cursing, death

summary: You and Benjicot Blackwood plan for the future. Things don’t quite go as planned.

word count: 5.1k

author note: Thank you all so much for your patience! I will not lie—this part was a struggle to write. I think I rewrote it at least three times, and I am still not sure if I’m absolutely satisfied. Fair warning, I’m putting our lovebirds through the ringer, but do not worry—I’m a girl who loves a happily ever after. Also, no smut in this part, but stick around for part five. Happy reading!

part i can be found here, part ii here, and part iii here.

“Have you lost your mind?”

You could not have heard him correctly. Surely Benjicot Blackwood had not just asked you to marry him, while you were half naked.

You hurried to adjust your dress and cover yourself in a desperate attempt to establish some sense of dignity and propriety in this moment. Had you not been overwhelmed by the day, had you not been so taken off guard, you might have responded a little more kindly to a proposal from your beloved.

Benjicot laughed as he watched you try to gather your wits about you. He followed your direction, adjusting his breaches so that everything was tucked back into its proper place.

Once you were both decent, Benjicot reiterated, “I am quite serious. We should marry this evening.”

You shook your head, mind racing as you tried to comprehend what he was saying, what he was asking. For years, you had watched Benjicot from afar. Watched the way he grew into a man, into someone that people feared and respected in equal measure. Being with Benjicot was always your dream. The one you had tucked away in your heart for years, never to see the light of day should you dare to do the most dangerous thing in all of Westeros—hope.

And now he was asking you to marry him. You felt unbalanced, unsteady. Your head and your heart were at war.

You managed to get off the bed. Needing a moment to collect yourself, you put some distance between you and Benjicot and moved back across the room to the fireplace.

When you turned back to Benjicot, you saw that he had not moved. His eyes were fixed on you, that predatory gaze locked onto your form, waiting for your response.

That look in his eyes never failed to make you squirm. The weight of that stare made you think he could hear every thought in your head, all your secrets and dreams.

You sighed, breaking eye contact and said, “You know that our families will never allow it.”

Benjicot stood then, and slowly stalked toward you. With each step, you felt your heartbeat pound louder against your chest. You had thought that the longer you spent in his presence, the more you would become used to him. But you could not deny the effect Benjicot had on you, on your body.

Benjicot took your hands in his, and pulled you against him. Placing your hands on his chest, he rubbed his thumbs over the scrapes you had gotten earlier in the woods. Had that only been this morning? Time seemed to hold no meaning in this room. A prison that now felt like a sanctuary.

“That is why we must marry tonight.” Benjicot smiled, and then placed a kiss on your brow. “By the time they find out, it will be too late.”

You pulled back, just enough so that you could look at his face. “And do your really expect your father and Black Aly to welcome me into the family with open arms?”

Benjicot was still smiling, still so sure of his plan. “They will once they see how happy we are. How much we love each other.” He shrugged before continuing, “And we would not be the first Blackwoods and Brackens to marry. Others have done it in the name of peace.”

“But our families do not seek peace now!” You practically shouted, frustration coloring your tone. “We are on the brink of war, and our families stand on opposite sides.”

You tried pulling away, but Benjicot tightened his arms around you, stilling your struggle. Whatever good humor Benjicot had was slowly leaching from his features. “You know as well as I do that Queen Rhaenyra is the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.”

You closed your eyes and took a steadying breath.“Of course I agree with you, but that does not change the fact that my father will disown me if we do this. I will never be able to return home.”

Benjicot pressed another kiss to your temple and whispered against your skin,“Would that be such an awful thing?”

You felt your heart jerk at his question. The idea of never seeing your family again, of never being welcomed home, of never eating your cook’s fruit pies or riding through the moorlands outside of Stone Hedge on a misty morning, or gods never visiting your mother’s gravestone, was enough to send a wave of nausea through you.

You hid your face against his chest. “My father was not always the most loving, but he is my father. For all the faults you may find with him, he has never been cruel to me.”

Benjicot felt the shift in your mood, could practically feel the sadness and desperation radiate from the points where you touched. He knew the sacrifice he was asking you to make was no small thing. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms, trying to comfort the turmoil within you.

You could not stop the tears even if you wanted to. You did not wail, did not scream at the unfairness of your situation, did not rail against the old gods and the new for cursing your families and subjecting them to an endless blood feud. For what else could this ancient, hateful grudge between the Blackwoods and Brackens be except for a curse?

Even if you could convince your father to bless a marriage between you and Benjicot, any children between you would be enlisted to the war. Generations of prejudice had proven that. It was no matter that the Bracken or Blackwood on the other side would be a cousin. No matter that no one could remember how the hatred between your two families even began. No matter how senseless the bloodshed would be.

This was your and Benjicot’s world. You could not run from the truth of your situation, could not hide from your fates. Not if you wanted your love to withstand.

And even though the thought of never going back to Stone Hedge was devastating, the thought of never seeing Benjicot again was unthinkable. Never hearing his voice or his laugh. Never seeing his smiles. Never having him hold you in his arms. You could not bear the separation, not after having a taste of what your life could be like together.

Your tears slowed and your breathing evened out. Whatever doubts that had plagued your mind were banished. Resolution steeled your spine. You took a fortifying breath and lifted your head from Benjicot’s chest. With a watery smile on your face, you said, “I accept your proposal, Benjicot Blackwood.”

Benjicot’s joy was infectious. Smiling wide and bright, he lifted you into his arms and kissed you with such a reverence that left your breathless. Gods, you loved this man. Wanted him again and could not imagine ever being parted from him. The very thought of being separated was enough to send a panic through you.

You wrapped your arms around Benjicot’s neck and tangled your hands in his hair, your tongue in his mouth. You felt his joy in that kiss. And you let that joy into your heart. Let it fill and warm you. In this moment, you allowed yourself to be happy.

The impossible dream was becoming a reality.

When Benjicot had proposed, he did not have an actual plan. He did not have any rings or a marriage cloak. As a Blackwood, he preferred to have a ceremony before the old gods in front of the ancient, colossal weirwood tree in the godswood.

Because there were no clergy associated with the old gods, the current Lord Blackwood usually performed marriage ceremonies at Raventree Hall. But seeing as his father would likely oppose the marriage, that left Benjicot with few options. With a little convincing, or in Benjicot’s case, a little threat of bodily harm, the maester finally agreed to perform the ceremony.

You could not stop smiling as Benjicot snuck you out of your rooms. With each passing hallway and corridor, you felt your excitement grow. You could barely contain your glee as you clung to each other, arms linked and hands intertwined, as you made your way into the godswood.

The maester stood before the weirwood tree, with only the moonlight and a few lanterns to light the way. Hundreds of ravens were to be your witnesses. On any other night, feeling the weight of all those eyes watching you might have felt unsettling. But nothing could spoil this moment, nothing could come between you and Benjicot—

“What in the Seven Hells do you think you’re doing?”

Every muscle in your body tensed. Panic settled in your chest, and you felt your stomach drop.

Black Aly stood at the edge of the godswood, her bow and arrow knocked and poised to strike.

You felt the world shift. One moment you were standing beside Benjicot, and the next, Benjicot stood in between you and Aly, putting himself in the way of the arrow that had been aimed at your chest.

“Lower the bow, Aly.” Benjicot’s voice was hard and low. You watched as he moved his hand to the hilt of his dagger, ready to draw the blade at any moment.

Even from a distance, you could see Aly roll her eyes at Benjicot’s actions, but she did not lower her bow. “Do not overwork yourself, nephew.”

You grabbed the back of Benjicot’s cloak, pulling slightly as if to hold him back. You glanced wearily back and forth between the Blackwoods. Two warriors preparing to battle. The last thing you wanted was for there to be violence. For surely a duel between Bloody Ben and Black Aly would be a fight for the ages.

Benjicot’s body was tense as yours. He did not truly believe that Aly would hurt you. Aly was tough but fair, and underneath her brash attitude and hostility, she had a gentle heart. But he would not risk you. Would not allow anyone to threaten or harm you. Not when he had the ability to protect you.

Benjicot pulled out his dagger. “Put the bow away, Aly. I will not ask again.”

You wanted to step in between them like you had done in the fight with Aeron. But this situation was different. This was two Blackwood who were taking the measure of each other, testing how far the other was willing to go. You could not intervene, even if the sight of an arrow pointed at Benjicot was enough to send your blood running cold.

After what felt like hours, Aly lowered her bow. Sighing, she returned the arrow to her quiver. Only then did Benjicot sheath his dagger.

“You sure have a flare for the dramatics, nephew.”

Now it was Benjicot’s turn to roll his eyes. “Says the woman who had an arrow aimed at my betrothed.”

Your heart fluttered at the word.

Aly huffed out a laugh. “Is that what she is to you? Your betrothed? I do not recall your father agreeing to any such arrangement.”

Benjicot remained in front of you, a barrier between you and Aly. “I asked for her hand, and she accepted.”

Aly stood with her hands on her hips, eyes directed toward the heavens. She looked as if she were searching for patience amongst the stars. When she cut her gaze back to Benjicot, you could not miss the look of pity that flashed across her face.

“Benji, you know that you cannot marry her.”

You reached for Benjicot’s hand, needing his touch and warmth to ground you in this moment. Whatever happiness you had felt, whatever joy that you had shared, was now slowly falling through your grasp.

Black Aly would never allow you two to marry. Not like this.

But Benjicot’s stubbornness was no light thing. “I love her, Aly. I will marry her, and you cannot stop me.”

Just as Aly was about to respond, you saw her face pale and expression grow uneasy. And when you heard the voice behind you, you understood why.

“You would be wise to reconsider that position, son.”

If you had thought you felt panic before, that was nothing to the sickening feeling that plagued you now.

Because standing on the opposite side of the godswood, directly across from Aly, was Lord Samwell Blackwood. Benjicot’s father, and your own father’s sworn enemy. And with him stood a dozen Blackwood guards, each looking between you and Benjicot with expressions that ranged from disbelief to disgust.

You had never been formally introduced to Lord Blackwood. He was a rather tall man, with hair as black as a raven’s wing. His close-cropped beard was the same. Like Benjicot, his gaze was enough to send a lesser man cowering. And right now that gaze was cold and enraged and fixed on you and Benjicot.

If Benjicot had not been holding your hand, you would have been trembling. The two of you were trapped.

“Are you so eager to start a war, Benjicot?” Lord Blackwood asked, his tone was like ice. “For some Bracken wench?”

You felt Benjicot’s hand tighten around yours, almost to the point of pain. One glance at Benjicot told you that he was furious. His glare held that feral edge, and he was close to snarling. Bloody Ben was backed into a corner, and he looked itching for a fight. Even if that fight was against his own father.

“You will mind how you speak about my lady, father.” Had you not been so fearful for your life and his, you would have thought that declaration rather romantic.

Lord Blackwood did not look impressed. “Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you and your lady have brought to our door, Benjicot?”

“We wish to marry, father.” Benjicot glanced at you as he said, “We love each other.”

A long suffering sigh escaped from Lord Blackwood as he motioned for his men to stand down. “That does not change the fact that she is a Bracken. You cannot simply marry her without expecting there to be consequences.”

“I am prepared to accept any consequence if it means we can be together.” The surety in Benjicot’s tone was enough to ease the fear that had gripped you since you had been discovered. You could help but give him a small smile.

A smile that Lord Blackwood did not miss. “And you, Lady Bracken?” Lord Blackwood sneered. “Are you prepared to face the consequences of this marriage? Your father will seek retribution for this little act of rebellion. Are you prepared to have blood on your hands?”

Now you were the one who squeezed Benjicot’s hand. Lord Blackwood terrified you, and so did his words. You did not wish to be the cause of another fight between the Blackwoods and the Brackens, did not want to send anyone to their death because you fell in love with someone who was never meant to be yours.

Benjicot nudged his shoulder against yours, offering you what strength he could. With him standing at your side, you found the courage to meet Lord Blackwood’s gaze. “Whatever trials and tribulations may come our way, Lord Blackwood, I am prepared to meet them with Benjicot as my lord husband.”

Even without looking at him, you could feel Benjicot’s eyes on you as you held your own against his father. Could feel how proud he was of you for defending your future together.

Taking another breathe, you could not help but add, “You speak of my hands becoming bloody, but I could not think of anything more fitting for a woman betrothed to Bloody Ben Blackwood.”

The silence in the godswood was deafening.

Every person and creature seemed to be holding their breath for Lord Blackwood’s response. You did not dare break eye contact with him, determined to hold your ground and prove yourself worthy of being Benjicot’s wife.

Lord Blackwood finally moved his gaze from you and back to Benjicot. “We will treat with Lord Bracken tomorrow. Offer him a parley. You will ask his permission to marry his daughter. You will accept his decision, no matter what he says.”

“Father! You know he will not—”

But Lord Blackwood had heard enough. Holding up his hand, he demanded silence. “Those are my terms, Benjicot. Be grateful I am allowing this much.”

A weariness had settled over Lord Blackwood’s features. Although he was still a man in his prime, in that moment, he looked aged and tired. As he turned to leave the godswood, he said, “We stand on the brink of war. The Targaryens are at each other’s throats since King Viserys passed. Soon House Blackwood will be asked to choose a side, and you have allowed your foolish heart to guide your choices.”

You could tell Benjicot wanted to protest, wanted to push back on his father’s orders. He knew as well as you did that convincing your father to allow the two of you to marry was going to take an act of the gods.

And even though Benjicot knew when to pick his battles, knew when he had lost a fight, he could not help but have the last word. “There are worse things to be guided by than one’s heart, father.”

Benjicot’s words gave Lord Blackwood pause. For a moment, you thought he might respond, might reprimand Benjicot for his lack of respect. Only when Lord Blackwood continued walking out of the godswood did you feel like you could breathe again.

The Blackwood guards followed their ledge lord, leaving you, Benjicot, and Aly in the presence of the ravens. You could have collapsed from exhaustion. You felt wrung out from the day. Too much had happened in such a short period of time, and your body was protesting.

Aly approached and stopped just short of you and Benjicot. “Well, that did not quite go as I expected.”

Benjicot rounded on Aly, and with animosity in his voice, he asked, “Why did you stop us?”

Aly stared at Benjicot like he had grown a second head. “We’re trying to prevent a war, Benji. Had the two of you married, Bracken would have shown up here with a thousand men seeking your head. You might love each other, but is that love really worth the lives of hundreds? Thousands?”

“You are overreacting—”

Aly shoved at Benjicot’s chest. “And you are being an idiot! Use your head, Benji. If you had married in secret, the Brackens would have stopped at nothing to avenge that insult. You know that, even if you are too blind to see it.”

With a softer tone, Aly continued, “Be grateful your father is supporting you in this. He could have just as easily returned her to Stone Hedge. You have a chance.”

Benjicot scoffed. “A chance? Do you really believe—”

“Enough.” You cut Benjicot off before he could say another word. You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “My father may hate Blackwoods, but he is not unreasonable. We will convince him.”

You could tell that Benjicot was struggling to control his temper. He was still running hot from the confrontation with Aly and his father. Bloody Ben was lingering too close to the surface. You pulled his face toward yours and pressed a kiss to his lips. Nothing more than a gentle peck, but enough to distract him.

When you pulled back, you could see that some of the edge had worn off. Benjicot’s face was calmer, less hostile. “I love you, Benjicot Blackwood. I do not plan to give you up without a fight.”

Benjicot smiled at your words, the soft smile he reserved just for you. He wrapped his arms around you, tucking you under his chin. “My brave girl. I pity any man who would dare cross you.”

You held each other for a moment before Aly cleared her throat. “If you two are finished, I’m going to escort little Bracken back to her rooms.”

With a quick kiss to your head, Benjicot released you and said, “Sleep well, my lady.”

You did not want to leave Benjicot, but you knew there was no way Aly was going to let you stay with each other. As you followed her out of the godswood, you could not help but take one last look at Benjicot.

You nearly stumbled when you saw him. Beneath the ancient weirwood tree, bathed in moonlight and surrounded by ravens, stood Benjicot. His head bowed as if in prayer.

You did not have to guess what he was praying about. You only hoped that the old gods were listening.

The only neutral territory acceptable to both the Blackwoods and the Brackens were the boundary stones near the old windmill. The day was overcast and cold, with the wind tearing through the cloak Aly had lent you.

Aly had not left your side since collecting you from your rooms that morning. You and Benjicot had been kept separated for the entire journey. You had asked for him, begged Aly to allow you two a moment alone, but she had refused. Lord Blackwood was keeping both she and Benjicot on a tight leash until this matter was settled.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. You had tossed and turned the entire night, too anxious to close your eyes for fear of what your dreams may hold. You might have been confident with Benjicot the night before, but in truth, you had no idea how to convince your father to allow you to marry.

The Brackens had arrived first.

A host of about fifty men had gathered on their side of the boundary stones. A sea of red and gold with a few horses scattered in the mix. You did not miss how all the men were armed with swords at the ready.

And in the front, seated atop his favorite war horse and adorned in battle leathers, was Amos Bracken. Your father.

Amos Bracken was not as tall or built as Samwell Blackwood, but you knew your father to be a proficient swordsmen and respected fighter in his own right. You had no doubt that should this come to blows, he would hold his own.

Aeron stood beside him. A united front against their perceived enemies. And while your father’s face was blank of all emotions, calm and controlled, Aeron’s disdain for the Blackwoods was clear for all to see.

The Blackwood host equalled that of the Brackens’. You had ridden to the neutral ground on the back of Aly’s horse. You had tried to spot Benjicot all morning, but there were too many men, too much chaos. The closer you got to the boundary stones, the more you felt Aly tense in front of you.

When you finally stopped, Aly directed you to the front of the vanguard. She had drawn her bow the moment your feet hit the ground.

Your first sight of Benjicot sent your heart thumping. His dark hair was mussed, as if he had run his hand through it multiple times. But that was the only sign that Benjicot felt uneasy. His posture was relaxed, and his mouth was fixed in a smirk, like this meeting was an every day occurrence. He showed no fear.

Aly stopped you slightly behind and to the right of Benjicot. You saw the moment when your father and Aeron spotted you. Your father’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Aeron’s face twisted into a mix of shock and disbelief.

You swallowed down the fear and anxiety. Swallowed down the nausea that threatened to upend your breakfast. Swallowed down any uncertainty you felt. You had to present a strong front to your father and his men. Otherwise, they would pounce on any hesitation and demand that you be returned home.

Lord Blackwood broke the silence first. “Amos. A pleasure as always.”

“Cut the shit, Blackwood,” Lord Bracken snarled, “and return my daughter to me.”

The words were not unexpected. You tensed as Aeron shifted his hand to the sword at his side, stomach twisting as he gripped the hilt.

You exhaled a long breath and fixed your gaze on your father. “I am well, father. The Blackwoods have treated me kindly.”

Lord Bracken’s face darkened, and you instantly regretted speaking. “I do not want to hear a single word from you.”

Your cheeks flamed at the dismissal, but you refused to lower your eyes. Refused to cower before your family. “Then I am sorry to disappoint you, father.”

“You insubordinate, ungrateful—”

“Lord Bracken,” Benjicot interjected, stopping your father from insulting you further. “I am here to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

You did not so much as breathe as you waited for your father to respond.

And waited.

The longer you waited, the more panic seeped into your veins. But when your father finally responded, you wished that he had not.

With a sneer on his face, your father glared at Benjicot when he said, “I would sooner feed my daughter to one of those Targaryen dragons before marrying her to some Blackwood cunt.”

You had felt like someone had knocked the air from your lungs. You had never seen such hatred on your father’s face. Had never heard his voice sound so cold and cruel. You knew that he hated the Blackwoods, but to sentence you to death rather than let you marry?

You looked at your father like he was a stranger.

You heard angry shouts and curses behind you from the Blackwood host. Felt that the bloodlust in the air had upped a notch.

Lord Blackwood held up a hand to silence his men. “Careful, Bracken.”

“My daughter was taken by your son. Subjected to gods knows what. I will not be careful, Blackwood.”

“That’s not true, father!” You shouted, launching yourself to stand before your father. You had to find some way to convince him, some way to get him to listen. “Benjicot and I are in love. Please, just listen to us.”

Your father scoffed. “Love? Between a Bracken and a Blackwood? Do not make me laugh.”

The Bracken host jeered at your father’s word, laughing and snickering at the very idea of you and Benjicot being together. You even heard a man call out, “Blackwood whore!”

You did not see Benjicot move. Did not see him reach for the dagger at his hip. Did not see him launch the blade into the air.

But you could not miss the dagger embedding itself into the man’s throat. Could not miss the splattering of blood or the final wheeze of breath the man took before falling to the ground. Dead in the blink of an eye.

A scream tore from your throat. You whipped around to look at Benjicot and found Bloody Ben instead. His eyes held that crazed, feral look, but there was no smirk.

Every Blackwood and Bracken standing in that field un-sheathed their weapons.

“You may insult me all you wish, Bracken!” Benjicot called out, moving forward. “Call me a cunt. Call me craven. I do not care.” He stopped next to you and took your hand. "But I will cut down any man who dares to say such vile insults to my lady. Of that, I promise you.”

Your father did not look pleased by that declaration. If anything, he looked more enraged than before. “You violate the terms of this parley, Blackwood. You have spilled Bracken blood. I have the right to demand your head. But I will settle for the return of my daughter. Now.”

You were close to tears. Nothing you or Benjicot said moved your father. He was determined to hold onto his hatred, to see the Blackwoods in the worst possible light. But you could not give up—you had to try.

“Father, please,” your voice broke at the words, “I know that the feud between our families has lasted for a millennium. I know that the thought of a Blackwood and Bracken being together, of loving one another, is inconceivable to you. I know that this is not the life you wished for me. But I have lovedBenjicot since I was a girl.” You took a quick glance at Benjicot to give you strength. “And he loves me. I humbly ask you to grant our union.”

Your father refused to look at you. Refused to acknowledge your words or pleas. You clutched Benjicot’s hand tighter. For you knew what was coming. Knew that your father was about to crush whatever hope you still held onto.

Ignoring you and Benjicot as if you were insignificant, he directed his words to Lord Blackwood, “I do not give my blessing to this marriage. Return my daughter to me or we will have war.”

Your vision swam and your ears began ringing. Somewhere in the distance you heard Lord Blackwood sigh and give the command. Your hand was ripped from Benjicot’s, by whom you did not know. You felt as if the entire world had spun off its axis. How had everything gone so wrong?

One moment, you were standing next to Benjicot, his warm hand against yours, and then in the blink of an eye, you were on the other side of the boundary stones, with Aeron leading you away.

You felt as if you were disconnected from your body. Aeron’s arms were around you, guiding you. You were vaguely aware that he was trying to say something, speak to you about what had happened. But you felt nothing. Heard nothing. A numbness had settled over you.

Only when you heard Benjicot call out your name did you snap.

You shoved against Aeron, tried to run back across the boundary stones to Blackwood land, back to your love, but Aeron held firm. You struggled against him, screaming and hitting and kicking, but your strength was no match for his.

You looked across the field to see Benjicot being held back by three men. He was snarling and raging, but the men held firm and forced him to his knees. You watched as Aly tried to speak to him, tried to calm him down.

But there was no calming Bloody Ben. Not now. Not when his lady had been taken from him.

When Benjicot saw that you were watching him, saw that you were struggling against your own constraints, he stopped. His eyes were wild and fierce and held the promise of retribution. With laboring breaths Benjicot shouted across the field, “I will come you for you, my lady!” He vowed. “I will always come for you!”

You sobbed at his words. Sobbed for the happiness and hope that you had felt only hours before. Sobbed for the future you might have shared together.

For the second time, you were forced to leave Benjicot behind in this accursed field. Only this time, the heartbreak was so much worse. You had gotten a taste of the impossible dream, gotten so close to getting everything you wanted.

Your dream had become a nightmare.

final author note: I know! I know! We have to suffer before things get better. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Love you babes xx

taglist:

@painted-flag @majoso12

@strollthroughstars29 @a-whiterose

@rebeccawinters @alifeinspiredd

@klutzylaena @poppyflower-22

@iliterallyhavenoideawhattowrite @justannadahfanfictor

@aaaaslaaaan @hobis-hope95

@username199945 @daddyslittlevillain

@flusteredmoonn @nixtape-foryou @prettykinkysoul

@crownofdecitreadingrespectfully

@someblessedgal @devildelilah

@reallyweridgirl @majocookie

@mack-devereaux @maximizedrhythms

@silverwingxox @credulouskhaleesi @poemfreak306

@atomicshepherdalmondpizza

@jevoislavieenrouge

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rapunzelbro · 3 months ago

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The Act of Stealing a Loved One |3| (Stanley Pines x Reader)

Hi y'all! I am overwhelmed by the amount of love this fanfiction is getting. Thank you so much, I am glad y'all love it and hope you enjoy it!

Story Guide

Why the hell was he doing this? Maybe it was to try and make up for all that he did to his brother, or maybe it was to attempt to not let Ford ruin something good that finally came into his life. Whatever the reason was, Stan was putting fake glasses on, wearing an outfit similar to what his nerdy brother would wear, he was going to the show. He was going to see you perform.

“God why does he dress so dorky” Stan muttered in annoyance as he looked himself over in the mirror. He adjusted the glasses that sat awkwardly on the bridge of his nose and grabbed the poster before heading out to his car. He drove off to where the show was taking place, in somebody’s basement.

“Do you think he’s going to come tonight?” you muttered, looking at Gabs.

Their band was currently tuning their instruments and checking over equipment in the basement, preparing for the performance.. How the neighbors didn't complain was beyond you, they probably are used to this by now.

“Do you want the truth or for me to lie?” Gabs glanced at you with an annoyed look in her eye, sighing, she continued to tune her guitar “...I don't know why you're still with that bum. You invited him to how many shows now and he just wont show?” She rolled her eyes, directing her attention back towards you.

“He’s super busy, and I get that... His degree is super difficult, so I get it” You muttered, beginning to untangle some of the wires you shoved inside your bag in a hurry “..if he doesn't show tonight, I might just have to talk about where this relationship is going.. I really just don't get why he doesn't support me on this..” you mutter frowning slightly as you progress with the mess of wires

“If that's what you feel is best then do it, besides, you'll always have me and the band,” Gabs smiles softly at you placing her guitar down as she looks at the clock on the wall “Doors open in ten, maybe you'll see him before the show starts.. I'm hoping for his sake or I swear I will beat the absolute sh-”

“Gabs! You're not beating up my boyfriend” you laugh, gently shoving her “But I hope he’ll be there too..”

Stan was glad he got there when he did, considering the fact it was a basement show it was pretty packed. Parking was a bitch, so he ended up parking on the front lawn to which everyone else followed suit once they saw him do it.

“Ford, don't make me regret this…” he muttered getting out of the car before heading to the door. Ignoring the looks of everyone else, he stepped inside. The house smelt of cigarettes and booze, it was rather full at the moment with groups of people talking. It made Stan stick out like a sore thumb while he was trying to find you in the room.

“Holy shit! Ford you actually came!” He heard a female voice yell out before he was suddenly embraced. Looking to see who embraced him, he saw the girl from the photo on Ford's desk, it was you. Returning the hug Stan smiled “I apologize for missing your other shows I got too caug-” he was cut off by you kissing him, shutting him up completely.

Was this wrong? 100%. If Ford ever knew about this he would be in even deeper shit. But the way your soft lips felt against his rough ones pushed that thought aside. Your scent of vanilla, mixed with cigarettes was like a drug he craved. He couldn't get enough of it. You pulled away after a few seconds looking into his eyes smiling

“As much as I love your rambling, shush. I'm just glad you're here!” she said giddily as she wrapped her arms around his neck, the Vodka you tried hiding with a piece of strawberry gum, hitting his nose in the closeness.

“Noted. You look absolutely beautiful, now when do you perform?” Keep your cool Stanley shit!

“Oh I'm on after the first band! Ya know… There's rumors of some school scouting agent showing up tonight.. god can you imagine if it was true?” You smiled, a sparkle in your eyes as you speak “The band and I, in the big leagues..On tour never having to look back? That's the dream” you removed your hands from Stan’s neck

When you pulled away he turned his attention to your ensemble for the show. Your hair was done with brushed out curls, falling towards the low cut neckline of the red shirt you had on underneath the black leather jacket that completed the look.

How the actual hell did Ford score you?

No seriously how the hell.

“Regardless, we got a huge following now, the word got out about us all over campus and some parts of your school so whatever happens I don't give a shit. This is so fun!” you giggle, slightly tipsy from the shots you definitely didn't have earlier

“Whatever makes you happy, I'll support you” Stan smiled gently, squeezing your hand.

He hates that he just added fuel to the fire of lies he is making, but he didn't want to crush your dreams. Stan knows his brother was definitely not supportive of your music career, he knows that he would probably tell you to be more realistic, that's just how his brother was. Stan wishes that somehow, he would have been the one you met, he longed for someone exactly like you. Carefree, up for the thrill of not knowing what's next, and not giving a shit while doing it.

“And that's why I love you Ford” Y/n says, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Y/n! Come on, we have to figure out all our shit before we go on! You can make out with him later!” Jamie yelled out to you, holding up one of his drumsticks, pointing out at you

“Ugh, I'm coming! See you on stage lover boy” You kiss him one last time before running off with Jamie.

God he was down bad

Taglist @bluepanda08 @slay-thou-pookie @karmaisacatluzi @fries11 @marvelous-maniac @cherryblom @leo4242564 @zuzzybakaemperiment @boba-is-a-soup @bigteefsmallbrain @originalalienlawyershark @darlingdia1007 @kismogizmo @heysam09 @mottysith @fudosl

#stan pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #stanley pines x reader #stanley x reader #stan x reader #gravity falls x reader #stan pines #stanford pines

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neteyamsilly · 2 years ago

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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3

summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't. PART 2 | PART 4 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me 😭 im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity 🤙🏻🤙🏻

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.

No answer.

What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.

“What, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” The leader’s stare found yours. “Let me give you a quick remedy.”

They’d linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you — all the show just for him.

The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.

A ghost of a smile shadowed the man’s face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. “Guess we’re gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.”

“Stop!” Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. “Stop.”

He talked. He didn’t leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!

“That was fast,” the captor behind you said.

“Thought you’d have forgotten English by now, playing native.”

“...Quaritch?”

Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spider’s father? But… But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?

“In the flesh.”

Father’s voice wavered, you’d think he was scared if you didn’t know any better. “That’s impossible.”

“Back from the grave just for you, Jake.”

“Then I’ll just have to put you right back where you belong.”

The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant.

This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yet—

“Quite the teary lovers reunion we’re havin’ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?” He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. “I have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn she’s yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?”

Silence again.

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point as always.” The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. “I don’t think I’ll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.”

Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. “If you touch one hair on my daughter’s head I swear to god—”

“You exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Let’s not kid ourselves now.” Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. “Your daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Don’t worry, unlike the Na’vi, we’re very hospitable.” His thumb brushed over a button. “Until next time.”

“Fucking bastard—”

With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. “Iron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.”

You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. “No! No! Let me go!”

“Be advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.”

“Dad’s really gonna flay her alive this time, I can’t wait.” Lo’ak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped.

Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. “They’re really going at it, huh?

Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. “What’s so interesting about watching this kind of thing?”

“Catharsis?” He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. “You remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that you’re not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.”

“You’re normally so dumb.” Lo’ak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Your brain only comes back on when it’s about chaos.”

“I’m petty, and what about it?” A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Lo’ak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. “Look at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think they’re discussing how to punish her?”

“Stop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. We’re supposed to be in bed.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to listen here!” His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. “Why did they have to go far?”

“Because they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?”

“And you’re still here too, so?” Lo’ak gave his sister a meaningful look. “I know you wanna see too.”

“Ugh!” Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. “And it’s not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.”

He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that she’d get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Lo’ak’s head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasn’t in trouble. He should do it more, actually. “It is funny when it’s not about me.”

“You’re sick for taking joy in another’s suffering.”

“Oh, I’m doomed, then.” Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Lo’ak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return — he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? “Yeouch! What the hell?”

“Will it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?”

He raised his voice’s pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. “I hate you!”

“Gross.” She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. “Dad was actually hurt by that.” Lo’ak’s eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling.”

That bad feeling was the herald of dad’s upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Lo’ak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight.

“Me personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.” He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. “I wanna tell Spider. I’ll go get him.”

“Absolutely not. You sneak off now and they’ll laser-focus all the anger on you!” Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. “Hey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.”

“Ha-ha.” Lo’ak’s tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. “Attempted murder, much?”

“Guys, what’s going on…”

Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.

“See, you woke her up! What do we do now?”

“You woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?”

“I didn’t, you—”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did n—”

“Guys…” Tuk pulled on Kiri’s hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Lo’ak. It must have dug into the older one’s skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiri’s. “Neteyam’s calling. You didn’t hear…”

Grinning, Lo’ak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiri’s hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. “Bro! Tell her she’s sooo dead. Dad’s literally keeping guard in front of the tent—”

“Lo’ak, quit it.” Neteyam’s tremulous answer was harsh. Lo’ak’s smile wavered as he dodged Kiri’s arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. “I need you to tell me what’s happening over there.”

“Aw, baby’s so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?” He laughed, slapping Kiri’s hands away. “I’ll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.”

His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated.

“Yeah, I’m not letting that one go and I’m also making it your problem—”

“Lo’ak, she isn’t here.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“She isn’t here. I couldn’t find her.” Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Lo’ak had stilled. They’d almost tumbled over. “Dad told me to wait until he contacts her and I’ve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me what’s going on over there.”

“Bro, you’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious, skxawng!”

He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. “Forget months, I’ll be free for years. Dad’s not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.”

The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. “What’s this about?”

And Neteyam would shake Lo’ak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. “Tell me already you—!”

“They’re having a fight bro.” He leaned better to peep outside the tent. “Yeah.”

“She came back? Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input he’d been given. Lo’ak didn’t understand this level of anxiety. “Are you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? It’s mom and dad who are fighting.”

It wasn’t that serious — on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didn’t want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boy’s worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning.

“Don’t be a smartass.” Lo’ak practically felt Neteyam’s want to land a loud smack on his back. “Were they only able to reach her, then? Is that why they’re fighting?”

“You’re asking me?—”

The older boy began to grumble under his breath. “This is why I called Kiri.”

Said girl’s ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Lo’ak snorted. “Ouch, bro.”

Kiri shook him from the elbow. “Me? What about me?”

“Great title for your autobiography.”

Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Lo’ak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didn’t even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while.

Until Lo’ak bumped into someone.

It wasn’t Tuk.

Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows.

The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Olo’eyktan’s forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Lo’ak into soldier mode.

He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. “Sir.”

All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Lo’ak and Kiri’s push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. “Dad?”

The man’s intensity was somehow eased by his youngest’s reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didn’t even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping — how they’d woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Lo’ak. “I want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon — Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and don’t go anywhere, understand?” His finger pointed accusingly at him. “Don’t cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what I’m saying here is Marine proof. I’m at the end of my wits here, don’t even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.”

The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Lo’ak’s head whirring. “What’s happening, dad?”

“One child!” The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Lo’ak jump out of his skin. “I need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!” Dad’s voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Lo’ak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word ‘Jesus’ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. “I heard you CFB.”

“Good.” He thinned his lips. “Kiri, please.”

Lo’ak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brother’s keeper in Neteyam’s absence in two simple words.

She nodded. “I know dad.”

He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her father’s bow in her hand.

Just what was happening? What had you done?

Eywa, it had to be sky people.

Dad saw the realization in his face. “Stay,” he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind.

Lo’ak wouldn’t have obeyed if it wasn’t for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.

You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline.

(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, “We aren’t so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? It’s called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?”

Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.

And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.

“Now my daddy taught me that!” you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.

What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)

You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Lo’ak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess you’d gotten yourself into had made itself known.

Think, think! How could you get out of this?

Within the unsleeping forest’s nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought.

It was mom.

Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix.

Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldn’t know you were also hurt, you’d never hear the end of it.

But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.

All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you.

You couldn’t get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off.

How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didn’t know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) — mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as you’d heard as a child, a Na’vi was naturally strong, but you couldn’t even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up

All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me!” Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and — and oh, it was your father.

You didn’t know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.

Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness you’d missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. “Are you hurt?” He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No,” you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.

In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point.

“On my mark, we’re gonna run, okay?” He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. “Follow me. Ready? Ready?”

You weren’t ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldn’t tell him that.

Instead, you ran like hell, moored by father’s taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches.

Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in mom’s embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you.

At least this way he wasn’t able to objurgate you.

Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. “Hey buddy!”

His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin.

“He brought us here,” your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. “You have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.”

You didn’t know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, ‘Well father told me to do it.’

But you were tired.

Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life.

Father’s only response was a dead cold, “C’mon, we gotta get outta here.”

He didn’t talk to you after that. Not one word.

Squatting on an ikran’s back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thing’s neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain.

Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikran’s neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didn’t even know how to ride right.

Got an ikran for nothing.

Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?

But no words were exchanged about it.

Father clamping up right after he’d made sure you weren’t hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone.

A ticking time bomb.

Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didn’t even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful.

And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldn’t help but hide because he’d think you didn’t deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction.

Yeah, no, he couldn’t know.

Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way.

Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.

Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldn’t help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. “Father…”

He didn’t stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that he’d heard it Lima Charlie.

The man just didn’t want to talk to you.

And you had to make yourself believe it wasn’t the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety.

“Ma’ite?” Mom rushed to you. “Ma’ite, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“I’m okay, mom, it’s okay.” You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. “I’m okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?” You swallowed, smiling. “I’m just… Just resting.”

Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves.

“Oh, why are you sweating so much? You’re freezing.” You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you weren’t exactly in the position to function healthily.

Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones — blanked out like a frightened animal. “You’re fine now,” she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. “You are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.” She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that it’d be discovered once you stood up. “I’m here.” She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. “I will take this now, you do not need it anymore.”

You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze mom’s lulling was laying you down gingerly into. “No, please don’t,” your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldn’t see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmother’s tent. You would make it, you had to. “I’ll… I’ll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just… take a small break, and then I’ll… Can you go back? I’ll follow later. Father is angry, I don’t—”

“Nonsense.” Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldn’t put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms — colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When mom’s voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you.

You weren’t able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward — mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs she’d tucked under herself. The moment you’d switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories.

A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony.

Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. They can’t know. Father will be so mad if he learns. “‘m okay… ‘st restin’…”

When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand she’d just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didn’t want to believe it.

Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. “Not mine,” you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldn’t you do anything right? “Not mine. Please. Mom, it’s okay.”

“No…” Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away — then it was over. Your sob wasn’t due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. “No! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!”

“No, mom, I’m fine, it’s nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?” You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief — lungs constricting. Where was all the air? “I’ll get up. I’ll go to grandmother, don’t cry. Just resting.”

Frantically looking around, she yelled, “Jake!—” but her voice didn’t quite come out, breathy as if she’d been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.

A heartbeat’s worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry.

“No!” You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against mom’s fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. “Don’t tell him! Don’t tell father! He’ll really kill me for this—”

“No, no no no,” she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. “Do not say that. Don’t you ever say that—”

But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. “He’ll be so angry,” you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. “You can’t tell him — you can’t! He already hates me!”

The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.

“Please, Great Mother!” The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. “Jake! Jake! Ma’Jake!” She put her temple against yours. “Not my daughter, please, Eywa…”

Why was she being like this? It wasn’t that serious! You were okay!

Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a mother’s despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. “Don’t call ‘im,” you continued to repeat, over and over again. “I’m just taking a break. Don’t call him over. He’s gonna be angry. He’ll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.”

The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, “He hates me.” A withered away, old flute.

Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.

And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body — tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didn’t know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.

It was over.

Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize — pride be damned, this battle be lost, you’d failed anyway. “Please don’t be mad,” you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. “It’s my fault—I’m sorry—please don’t be angry—”

“Stop talking,” he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath — probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. “Don’t speak.”

Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance.

Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldn’t stop turned into yowls — you hadn’t even noticed your hands were wrapped around father’s wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,” he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment you’d been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didn’t even want to hear you talking.

And you fulfilled his wish.

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#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #irma: 📝#📖: light

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thelov3lybookworm · 1 month ago

Text

Am I Forgiven?

Summary: one chance is all he gets

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2650

Warnings: tinyy bit of angst, keir, rhysie poo being nosy. language ig? let me know if theres more i need to add here hehe 🫶🏻

A/n: based on this request by @nightless <3333 hope you like this pookie and please forgive me for taking over a year almost to post this 😭😭😭

(i feel like i kinda went off track but i tried to stick to the plot and my mind took the steering and was like. 'hmm this new route looks cool' im sorry lmaoo)

anyways, ENJOY🥹

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Y/n felt her eyebrows rise, glancing at the back of Keir’s head. She had thought the high lord would try to sweeten his offer, maybe start slow. But he apparently was in a no bullshit mood, and Y/n was not complaining. The quicker the ordeal was over, the quicker she could go back to her back and forth with the General.

Y/n was only here to help protect Keir, maybe even intimidate the high lord, though she knew that would only really happen in Keir’s dreams. That meant Y/n didn’t need to pay attention to whatever big words the two males threw at each other, and so she let her eyes wander.

Morrigan, Keir’s daughter, definitely got her looks from her father, but no one would point that out loud, not wanting to get into anyone's bad graces.

The shadowsinger was one of the most beautiful people Y/n had seen. Pity that he was so cold and closed off from everyone.

If he had been even a little less cold, Y/n would have had him in her bed long ago.

It was a good thing she didn’t really like pretty males.

She liked her males built, rough, and roguish.

Which, fortunately for her, her mate was exactly that.

Unfortunately for her, he was the Lord of Bloodshed, the General of the night court’s armies.

Cassian.

The thought brought a sly smirk on her face as she met the hazel eyes of the illyrian, who already looked ready to pounce over the table to get to her.

Y/n turned her attention back to the high lord before he could see the same urges in her eyes. She had mostly tuned everyone out, so when she heard the words muttered by Rhysand, shock jolted her entire body.

"So your darkbringers will fight when need be, and in exchange, you get to visit velaris. We’re settled then."

Y/n glanced at Keir, wide eyed, who simply offered a nod to the high lord before stalking out. Y/n had no choice but to follow, but she did shoot a last look at Cassian, who looked like he’d seen a ghost.

She knew how hard it must’ve been to receive such news, considering he called the place home and considering how much the elite members of the high lords inner circle hated hewn city and its people, Y/n would not blame him if he lost his mind in the cavernous meeting chamber.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Keir had led Y/n and Bastian to a smaller room, ordering the two to get the darkbringer army ready and prepared to leave at a moment’s notice, to increase their training time and try and test every single one of the soldiers to make sure they were giving their best. And after half an hour of unceasing droning about the upcoming war, he told them to leave, mumbling something about freedom and velaris under his breath as the two generals escaped the empty yet full room, hurrying to get away before Keir decided he needed to ramble more.

The moment they were far enough away, Bastian let loose a breath, stepping off to the side and leaning against the wall. Y/n followed, standing toe to toe with him as she focused her eyes on the rock formations next to his head.

"How soon do you think the war will be upon us?"

Y/n took a deep breath, meeting the onyx eyes that always seemed to know her a little too well. "I don’t know. But it will be soon, I’m sure."

He was quiet for a moment. "When are you going to tell him, Y/n?"

Y/n turned away from him, letting her eyes survey the nearby brothels and shops, full of drinking and revelling patrons.

"Y/n?"

She sighed. "I don’t know, Bas. I feel like he knows already, but then he leaves every time. Every visit, I wonder if he will stop running in circles and finally talk to me about it, but then all he does is flirt all night and then vanish when I start to feel like we might be getting somewhere. I don’t know what to think anymore."

Bas hummed, rubbing his brow. "Maybe just talk to him? Tell him to get his shit together. After all, you do love ordering the soldiers around. Maybe he needs to get a taste of that to stop being a child."

Y/n rolled her eyes then, shaking her head. "Good night, Bas."

He laughed, then clasped her shoulder as she began walking away, halting her in her tracks. "Jokes aside, I mean it, Y/n. you should talk to him."

Y/n blinked at him, then nodded uncertainly. And with a last squeeze, Bas walked away, humming his favourite off key tune.

Maybe he was right. She needed to talk to Cassian.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Cassian’s pov.

Cassian was not someone who squirmed. Sure, when he liked someone and wanted to impress them, he’d be jumping off the walls. But he had never felt uncomfortable under his brother’s gazes, let alone Rhysand's gaze.

Azriel was supposed to be the intimidating one, the one who looked at people and saw right through them. But the way Rhysand stared at Cassian, his brows furrowed and lips pursed, Cassian wondered if he was trying to stare into Cassian’s soul.

Or maybe trying to get through his mental walls to find out the answer to the question he very clearly had.

When Cassian was tired of being stared at like a medicinal herb specimen while he scanned the crowd in Hewn City, he finally snapped. "What?"

"What’s the deal between you and the General of the Darkbringers?"

Instantly, Cassian felt his blood cooling.

"Is there supposed to be a deal?"

Rhysand scoffed. "Not really, but the way you two act around each other suggests otherwise."

Cassian narrowed his eyes, gaze fixed to a far corner in the throne room where a couple had started kissing. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

The high lord snorted. "Yeah sure, I believe you."

Cassian remained quiet, and before long, Rhysand was opening his mouth again. As expected.

"You know, I was wondering if she has something going on with her right hand man. What was his name? Blaise? B-"

"Bastian." Cassian half snarled, his gaze swinging to the knowing eyes of his brother, and he realised that this was his plot all along. He’d been poking Cassian about mindless matters the whole evening, and to add to the annoyance of the general, Rhysand had hit where it hurt the most.

Cassian had seen the two, Y/n and Bastian, interact. And while they probably merely shared camaraderie, it irked Cassian to no end that another male got to talk to his mate so freely and get no repercussions for it, while Cassian had to skirt around everything he wanted to say to that magnificent female, having to settle to flirting when he wanted to tear open his chest and present her with the organ that kept him alive.

"So, I’ll ask again. What’s the deal between you two?"

Cassian released a frustrated sigh, then turned his gaze to the wide double doors, knowing his eyes showed his longing more than he wanted them to.

"She…"

But then she walked in, and his breath caught at the way her eyes instantly met his, as if she had come here solely for the purpose of finding him. And as he watched her stalk to him, her posture impeccable and confidence unwavering, not even sparing a glance to the people as they stepped out of her way the moment they spied her march up to the thrones the rulers occupied without care, he knew he was right.

She stopped only once her boots hit the first step leading up the dais where the high lord and lady sat, brows high. She bowed her head, eyes looking up at them.

"My lord, my lady. Would you mind if I steal away your general for a few moments?"

If possible, Rhysand’s brows rose even higher, glancing once at Cassian before shaking his head. "We wouldn’t mind at all."

Y/n shot Cassian a look, which promptly made him move to follow, but he also could not help but be worried.

She looks like she’s gonna cut off my balls.

The further away he moved from his brother and his high lady, the deeper in the crowd, it got harder to focus on worrying about his assets over the sound of the loud, seductive lilt of the orchestra that blared from the corner.

Once again, he felt Rhysand tap on his mental shields.

‘What?’

‘Is she your mate?’

Cassian stilled for a moment, then kept moving before he lost sight of Y/n’s back.

‘Yes.’

Rhys was silent for a moment, prompting Cassian to wonder whether he had left his mind when he spoke again.

‘Look, I will understand if you don’t want to accept the bond, but do not fuck this up. Reject her after the war is over. If she gets upset, everything will be ruined-’

‘Shut the fuck up. What makes you think I don’t want her?’

Another pause.

‘I thought if you hadn’t yet accepted the bond, you didn’t want to-’

Cassian shoved Rhysand out before he could rile him up even more, pulling his wings closer to himself as he finally escaped the throng of revellers and stepped out of the throne room.

He did not have it in himself to tell his brother that he was the reason Cassian had suppressed his urge to claim his mate right the moment the bond snapped.

He had been worried that Rhysand, despite how much he loved his family, was also the high lord, and he would do anything to keep the court safe, no matter how much he despised it. And if Y/n had accepted the bond already, there was a high chance Rhys would use her to win this war, as he already was planning to.

Cassian did not want to go against his brother, but neither did he want to let his mate be used.

Fingers snapped in Cassian’s face, making him jerk back, wide eyes scanning his surroundings, snagging on the jutting rock’s overhead, the cavernous ceiling, the scarce lighting, before finally focusing on the reason for his abrupt departure from the throne room.

She stared back at him, her arms folded across her chest.

"Are you so distracted because you don’t want to talk to me?"

He blinked, swallowing.

How would he ever tell her that she was as far from the truth as she could get.

Instead, he offered her a smirk. "No sweetheart, I was wondering which wall I would like to take you against first."

Y/n was no shadowsinger, but she was a darkbringer. That brought along night powers, faint wisps of dark sky swirling around her wings frantically that were generally utilised for hiding better as she raised an eyebrow at him, and despite her calm exterior, Cassian knew she was getting agitated by his continuous refusal to acknowledge the mating bond.

He suspected that would no longer be the case very soon if the anger also glimmering in her eyes was any indication.

Also the tiny, foreign emotions taking root in his chest that came from the other side of the bond, because no matter how hard the two tried to block the pathway connecting their souls, it was as if the mother refused to let it be shut completely.

"Cassian, I am tired."

He swallowed again. "Well, that’s nice. Maybe I can give you a massage afterwards, oils and all. Maybe a bath together-"

"Do you feel it too?"

His mouth snapped shut, and he wondered if not speaking would help him at all.

And then he caught a whiff of his scent from her skin, and that set somethin feral that had till now been bound in his chest loose.

"Why the fuck do you smell like Bastian?" He spat out the name, as if even having to move his facial muscles to speak the offending male’s name disgusted him to the core.

Which it did.

Y/n blinked, her brows raising. "Are you serious right now? I just asked you a question and you respond like a typical animalistic illyrian." She shook his head, and the smile that lifted the edges of her lips sent cold fingers skittering down Cassian’s spine, knowing he had messed up. "But you did answer me, didn’t you? Even if indirectly. Pathetic."

Y/n turned away from him, her wings splaying out in a furious stretch before wrapping back tightly against her back.

"Wait, Y/n."

She paused, glancing back at him, incredulous tilt to her lips as she surveyed him. "I have been waiting for quite a long time now, Cassian."

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair as he released a frustrated exhale. "I know that Y/n, but I was doing it to keep you safe."

She barked out a harsh laugh. "Keep me safe?"

He nodded. "I didn’t want you to get caught in between Keir and Rhysand. And you know you would have if they’d realised what we shared sooner."

She was no longer grinning at him, the mocking expression having long melted off of her beautiful features. "And you could not have handled it better?" She took a step towards him, and despite her menacing shadows swirling around her, Cassian relaxed, happy she would stay for a few precious moments longer, even if it was just to yell at him.

"Cassian, I know you can feel my emotions too. You know how badly I wanted to talk to you and figure this out. You really could not have come to me and told me that we’d have to keep the bond under wraps instead of flirting with me and then leaving me waiting for you?"

Cassian dipped his head, shame burning through him. He had nothing to say, knowing she was right and nothing he uttered could possibly justify his actions.

If he really wanted to keep her safe, he would have left her alone. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. This was his mate. And he would have damned himself and everyone around him if he had to ignore his mate.

"Y/n, I- I’m sorry. I know I have wronged you, making you feel like I do not care, but please, give me one chance?"

Cassian watched as her eyes softened the tiniest bit, her shoulders slumping.

"Just tell me why you kept me hanging."

He nodded, rubbing his eyes. "I was scared Rhys would try to use you, and I did not want you to think that I only… accepted the bond to get closer to you."

She stared at him, then dipped her head. "I guess that makes sense."

He watched her, uncertain. "I… does it?"

She shook her head, a smile slipping onto her lips. "I am still mad at you, so don’t go getting too happy. I am not letting you off easy, but…"

"But?" He pressed.

"I guess it’s for the best that we don't do anything now because I need to focus on the darkbringers and make sure they are trained. I’m sure you also have duties, whatever it is you do."

Cassian blinked. He could not believe she was being so gracious. He had thought she would be angrier.

"So… does that mean there is a chance I will be forgiven?"

She snorted, turning away. "One chance, a lot of grovelling. And maybe I will consider it."

She walked away, hips swaying lightly, but then paused, head turning to look at him.

"For the record, I’m sure these walls would be pretty uncomfortable against my back."

And then she was gone.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

permanent taglist: @berryzxx @serenescureforboredom @cassie6392 @harrystylesfan2686

@sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @secret-third-thing

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @lady-of-tearshed @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady

@lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @garden-of-runar @girlswithimagination

@sunnyspycat @artists-ally @milswrites @kingdomofstarrynights

@berryzxx @buttermilktea11 @loving-and-dreaming @yucanbmylxdy

@mellowmusings

Cassian Taglist: @moonlwghts @samslittlespoon @nickishadow139

@illyriassweetheart

#cassian #cassian x you #cassian x reader #acosf #cassian acotar #cassian acosf #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #night court #General of night court #lord of bloodshed #mating bond #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon

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iloveavatar · 2 years ago

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a mothers instinct

neteyam x fem! reader

this is when the reader and neteyam are kids! also this is just something short (hopefully people are ok with that)

neteyam was always a wonderful kid.

the type of kid to always be happy about anything and everything.

neytiri never had an issue with her eldest. he has always laughing at something she did or something jake said that he found absolutely hilarious.

neytiri soon realized that neteyam was curious about the forest animals.

how they grew, what they looked like, how they responded to na’vi, etc.

he asked her if they could look for a specific type of thing in the forest. except neytiri had an issue… seeing as the one thing he wanted to go find was in fact not an animal.

he wanted to find another na’vi.

neytiri tried explaining to him that the na’vi children weren’t just hiding in the forest.

but neteyam insisted they go look.

he wanted to find another na’vi.

one by the name of y/n.

neytiri was quite confused as to who y/n was. however she still followed her eldest child deep into the forest where he was leading her.

they soon stopped at a small tree.

the tree was slightly glowing, the leaves were different shades of green and blue. the height of the plant was just tall enough where the top reached neytiris waist.

neteyams little tail was flickering back and forth in anticipation. his eyes darting around with hope of seeing his new friend.

“neteyam why have we stopped? there’s nothing here honey?” neytiri questioned with a confused look on her face.

“this is where y/n told me to meet her! she’s super pretty, just wait mom!” he excitedly said, slightly bouncing with joy.

neytiri decided to try and listen for any footsteps approaching. she heard a small stick break near the two of them.

her ears twitched at the sound.

she slowly got into a defensive position to protect her son.

however she couldn’t protect her son, seeing as neteyam was running away from her arms towards the sound.

“neteyam!” she whispered-yelled

“mama! mama! it’s y/n i see her!” he yelled with a smile on his little face.

neytiri followed her son to where she spotted another young na’vi.

however the young little girl was sniffling.

“y/n? are you ok? why are you sad?” neteyam worriedly asked. he ran around her to get a good look at her face properly.

“…neteyam? i thought you didn’t come?” she asked with tears in her big round eyes.

“what? of course i would come! why wouldn’t i?” he asked

“you weren’t at the tree… and i-i thought you forgot about me so i went to leave. b-but then i tripped and now my foot hurts.” she explains showing him how her ankle was swollen.

neytiri stepped around to face to pair.

y/n gasped.

“y-you’re neytiri! you fought against the scary sky people!” y/n said astonished. her jaw was dropped.

neytiri chuckled at the girls expression. she soon stopped laughing once she saw the damage her little foot had taken. her ankle was quite swollen.

neytiri had her mother instincts kick in and squatted down to get a proper look at the ankle.

“mom? what should we do about her foot? is she gonna be ok?” neteyam questioned nervously, seeing as he was anxious about his friends injury.

“she will be once we get her to your grandmother.” she said with a small smile on her face.

neytiri then picked up y/n and placed her on her back.

“let’s go get your foot fixed up so you two can play yeah?” she asked as she started to walk home.

neteyam led the way all the way back to his grandmothers tent.

the entire walk back to the village(?) neteyam and y/n ranted about all of the things they want to do. they talked about how they were going to swim, find different plants, eventually ride ikrans, all the way to what they wanted to become when they were older.

neytiri listened to the two of them with a smile on her face.

she was glad neteyam found a friend.

especially one who was as adventurous as him.

neytiri over the years witnessed how neteyam and y/n became closer than ever to one another.

neytiri realized the longing looks the two would send each other. the worry that they had whenever the other would go somewhere. the smiles they would send each other.

she noticed it all.

she even noticed the love in their eyes as they grew older and wiser.

her mother instincts were always right.

and a mother always knows best.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

enjoy guys! i’m so sorry i’m always slow with posting.

please send requests!!

~S!

#avatar #the way of water #neteyam x reader #avatar x reader #neteyam #neytiri #neteyam fluff #iloveavatar

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letruyuread · 6 months ago

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Little thoughts about about Twisted Wonderland characters and you (yuu)

Riddle loves having the first slice of tarts, strawberry ones especially. So I think that, for holidays or even if you're just feeling down, he gives you the first slice of his strawberry tart. No explanation, please don't mention it- you'll fluster the poor boy. But it means a lot to him, and he secretly hopes you understand that.

Yes, Ace is a teasing prick, most of the time, anyways. But the second anyone brings up how he might possibly feel for you? Absolute tsundere. Denying it to the high heavens. Insults you a lot, too. "How could I ever like the perfect?! They're so- so-" Yeah, no one's falling for it. Give him time. He'll get comfortable with the idea soon enough, and then you have a whole other problem.

Deuce loves to talk to his mom about you. Rants about you- the incredible magic-less human that stole his heart (No, get out of here Ace-). You don't even care that he used to be a delinquent! How amazing is that? His mom is overjoyed that her son met someone who sounds so nice and keeps trying to give him advice to ask you out. She also tries to convince him to bring you home during break- you're not even dating yet.

Cater, of course, posts about you on his Magicam. It's the usual- oh, they're so pretty today, look my partner gave me food 😍. But there are also things he doesn't post, surprisingly. He doesn't post the picture he took of you, laughing against the sunset. That one's private. Too perfectly you to be seen by everyone. No, that's just a moment for the two of you, he thinks.

Trey loves baking you things, baking with you, but he always finds himself flustered when you bake something for him. He taught you the recipe, he remembers, a few weeks ago, and here you are standing with a small platter of cookies. Some are burnt, some taste a bit salty (you didn't add the oyster sauce... right?) and yet he eats them all and loves them because you made them. For him.

Leona, I think, takes very good care of his hair. It was worse before he came to Night Raven, his attendants tried to take care of it, but he always managed to hide away (he was taking a nap). On the first day, though, Vil couldn't stand such a pretty face with such horrid care and taught Leona a routine. Leona now follows that routine strictly. He takes pride in it, as much as his smarts and strength. You know he's having a bad day when it's unkempt and tangled. You also know how much he trusts you when he teaches you the routine, when he lets you help him with it on those bad days or weeks or maybe months.

Ruggie gives you things. It's always random- a bit of his food, a dandelion in the field, a ribbon floating in the wind. He grew up with little- so naturally, he hoards everything he can get his hands on and keeps it for himself. One day he might need it, or his grandma, or the kids in his neighborhood. He's very protective of his growing stash. So when he gives you these things, it's him telling you that you're part of his family now. Ask for anything, he'll find it. Just like he would for the people back home.

Jack adopts a lot of cacti (I nearly spelled cactuses) with you- very silly, right? A lot of cacti. He waters them appropriately, a strict schedule for each, and keeps them at Ramshackle dorm. You have a whole room for them, very bright from large windows and only tables for the plants to be placed on. It's common in his family that you only have one person, your whole life, to stick by. He's hoping it's you- he's hoping you'll fall for him if he keeps coming around, day by day, taking care of your plant children (plant army).

(oh God there's so many but Im on a roll)

Azul, Azul... Oh boy. He really wants you to make a contact with him. Doesn't matter what kind- you want it, you'll get it (even if you don't agree to his offer, honestly). He always seems to want the same thing, though: (no it's not marriage) a friend. That's what he says, that's not really what's in the contract, though. The exact wording is 'companion.' Someone to talk to, someone to trust. Someone who calls his merform pretty and him intelligent. Someone who doesn't make him feel insecure.

Floyd. What do to with you? He's very touchy. Very touchy. Once, he skipped all his classes and just grabbed onto you, having you carry him around on your back and not letting you go. Yes, he put a spell on himself to make him light as a feather, no one could carry that tall of an eel. He's very clingy and doesn't understand how he feels about you. It confuses him, he has no clue what this is, he just knows he wants to be around you and why shouldn't he be?

Jade knows. You have weekly tea parties. Don't worry, everything's free of charge... Except that, you have to pay for that. Oh, you didn't bring any money? Well, a kiss would do, but... Oh, no, that was a joke. Please don't look so worried. Jade may know what he feels for you, but he's still working out how to deal with it. The twins kind of never thought this would happen.

Kalim is such a sweetheart! Give him all the love in the world, he'll reciprocate tenfold! Whatever you want. He can buy it, if not, his family has the connections to get it, surely. But don't be mistaken- he'll adore you if you make something for him. If he can, he'll always have it on him. Plus, he tries to make stuff for you too! It might look bad, or taste weird, but he's beaming at you and the thought is there!

Please give Jamil a day off. No, really- drag him as far away from Kalim and any responsibility as possible. Do everything. Cook for him, cuddle him, tell him he's amazing and smart and very very cool and it is HIS DAY OFF. Take care of him, please? He needs this. He needs you. He'll do the same for you, if you ever overwork yourself or have a bad day. Trust him, and ask him to trust you.

(I haven't gotten beyond book 4, so I don't know enough about the other characters to feel confident writing them. Maybe Idia, Malleus or Lilia, as I really like them and have done some research on them, but for now this is what I got. Enjoy?)

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #riddle x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #ace x reader #deuce x reader #Trying to get everyone hold on #trey x reader #cater x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #jack howl x reader #azul x reader #floyd x reader #jade x reader #kalim x reader #jamil x reader #God there's so many #I think I did it

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baby-yongbok · 4 months ago

Text

The Wolves

Boyfriend!Seo Changbin x Afab!Reader

♡ Genre - Explicit (non-idol) - Bad boy!Changbin ♡ WC: 3.2k ♡ CW: Public sex, Marijuana usage, Binnie gets ✨confrontational✨

♡ Summary: Your Changbin's girl, everyone knows that. You're off limits but sometimes the wolves forget that and the two of you have no problem reminding them.

♡ A/N: When I saw these pictures I knew that I'd end up writing to them. I was right. This was something quick that I wrote in a day and saved to be apart of my Binnie Birthday Week! I hope you enjoy + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

✧ Masterlist ✧

You and Changbin don’t match, that’s been clear since earlier in the night when some of his friends that you never met gave you narrow confused glances as you walked in with him. He’s mean looking and clad in leather while you’re donning a small smile with a knee length sundress that your boyfriend gifted you earlier in the week.

The friends that you’ve already met know that as odd as the visuals may be the energy between you two is an undeniable match. It just seems to be off putting to those who haven’t seen you two together before.

“Thought you weren’t coming.” His friend, who you think is named Chris, greets your boyfriend with that complicated handshake that they made up. Changbin tried to teach it to you once but you just can’t do it. “Is this the girlfriend that I’ve heard so much about?”

You smile over at Chris, giving him a small wave. He gives you a once over, ending with a grin before looking back at Changbin who’s glaring at him. “Behave yourself or no one here will ever see you again.” You giggle at the threat and Chris throws his hands up in surrender.

“She’s cute that’s all.” Chris looks over at you. “You’re cute, but I’m gonna go so your rottweiler of a boyfriend doesn’t maul me.”

“Hate that guy.” Changbin mumbles with a crooked smile and you smile back. It’s clear that he doesn’t but you play along anyway. “He seems terrible.” You both laugh as you move further into the group.

It’s a small and scattered get-together. People are drinking, smoking and everything in between. You’re one of the few girls in the group and you stick out like a sore thumb which earns you a lot of looks from some of Changbin’s friends you know and some that he’s told you to stay away from.

The two of you are sharing a blunt when Chris pops back up and sits next to Changbin. He leans in and whispers something that turns your boyfriend's face sour on his exhale. You’re pressed against his side so you can see it all as you take another drag of the joint.

His eyes wander across the room and over to a group of guys that you know he doesn’t like. You call them the wolves. From what you’ve heard there have been a couple of fights between him and the one staring back in this direction. The one staring at you.

Chris pats Changbin’s shoulder and smiles over at you before retreating back to his spot with the freckled blonde across from you.

“Binnie?” He hums but his eyes stay on the man across the room. “What’s the matter?”

Your speech is slower than usual, a clear indication that you’re on the road to being high outta your mind. Whatever Jisung put in that blunt is definitely some serious shit. “Nothing, bunny.”

He pulls his gaze away, looking over at you with mean eyes. You know that look, that’s the look he gets when he’s feeling possessive. “C’mere.”

He takes a deep drag of the blunt and you sit up to lean into him. He grabs your jaw lightly and you fall into place, following his gentle lead. He blows the smoke into your mouth and you inhale every bit that you can. Once he’s completed his exhale his lips crash to yours. He kisses you hard and rough, keeping one hand softly on your jaw and the other grabs your waist to pull you closer.

You exhale the smoke through your nose, the hand that isn’t supporting your weight against the battered sofa is rubbing across Changbin’s lap and over his soft bulge. You know that he’s trying to send a message and you have no problem playing along.

He breaks the kiss, pulling away a bit to look you in the eyes. His are just as red and droopy as yours. His dark pupils are dilated but now there’s something different about them, something foggy and heavy. “I don’t know if I should’ve brought you here tonight.” He whispers, eyes searching yours.

“Mm, Are the wolves hungry?” Changbin turns his head for a second, he looks back at the men across the room to find them all staring back at him. Some with clenched jaws, some with smirks on their face and some just watching. You’ve even seemed to earn the attention from some others outside of that group. “They are.”

You hum, untangling yourself from him and standing from the couch. You offer him your hand and he takes it, standing with you. “Then let’s feed them.” You sneak a mean glare to the men across the room and their smiles fade almost instantly.

“Outside.” Changbin mumbles before he springs into action. He moves you in front of him and leads you to the back exit where there’s nearly no one around. Just a couple making out on a fire escape and Changbin’s friend’s Minho and Hyunjin getting head from some girl over in the dark corner by the door.

The cool summer air hits you hard once you step out of the door. It feels different with the weed in your system. It feels good, but not nearly as good as Chagbin’s hands on you as he leads you down to the end of the - surprisingly clean - alleyway.

He pushes you up against the graffiti littered brick. His hands wander over your breast and up your arms as yours squeeze and scratch at his exposed muscle and over his leather clad shoulders. The hood to his jacket falls back leaving him with just his hat as he leans in for a kiss. It’s hungry and hard and fast but organized. It’s firm and possessive.

In Changbin’s head he’s still kissing you in front of them. He’s showing the wolves what they can’t have and he wants to make it clear, you’re off limits. You on the other hand are messy. Your movements are blurry and hurried as you unzip your boyfriend's jacket and move to his belt buckle. You’re still showing off to the wolves in your head too. You want to make it clear to them that you’re his, you’re off limits.

You’re whining into Changbin’s mouth and he hastily swallows every sound. He can tell that you’re getting antsy, you want him to touch you, that’s how you always get when you’re high. You’re the touchy and horny type while he’s the laid back type.

“Needy little thing." He pulls back and strips his jacket off of his shoulders. You watch with pleading eyes as he lays it on the floor next to your feet like a blanket. He wraps an arm around you, turning you so that your back is against his front so that you can sit in his lap but a sound pulls his attention to the door down the alley.

He looks down and his jaw instantly clenches, It’s him. That one fucking wolf who was staring at you and his fucking friend are leaning up against the wall, drink in their hands while they steal glances at the two of you. “Can I fucking help you?” Changbin shouts at the pair of them and it’s only then that you notice them.

“Ignore them.” You whisper to him and press your ass back against him. “I’m not letting them see you like this.” He turns you to the side so that you’re mostly out of view.

“You’re mine, no one else gets to see you fucked out for me.” Changbin turns back to face the two, hands balled into fists and ready to fire but he relaxes a bit when Chris walks through the door. His eyes meet Changbin’s instantly and he can feel the tension in the space between them.

“I suggest that you two head back inside, yeah?” Chris glares at the two and they return the hostile gaze. “If you wanna see someone fuck so badly I can get you two a room and a mirror. I’m sure you’re no stranger to that.”

“The fuck did you say?” They step towards Chris, their glass bottles are in tight fists and Changbin takes this as his cue to get over there. Your boyfriend takes a couple of steps towards Chris and his friend takes a couple of steps towards the wolves. “Basically what I’m saying is…”

Changbin finishes his friend's sentence with a venomous growl to his voice, one that you’ve never heard before. “Get fucked up or get the fuck out.” He tilts his head, watching them both carefully.

“Your choice.” Chris finishes and the two just stare back at them. A second or two pass before the duo decide to avoid a beating and head inside. “Good choice.” Chris mutters as your boyfriend follows the two with angry eyes.

Once they’re out of sight you can visibly see Changbin’s shoulders relax. He stretches his fingers and neck and Chris gives you a quick glance before patting his friend on the back.

“Go, don’t keep the pretty thing waiting.” You’re leaning against the brick as you wait for Changbin, thighs pressed together and a blunt between your fingers. You’re taking a drag when he gets back by your side.

“Where did you get a blunt?” Changbin smiles at you, he can feel the tension melt away now that he’s back with you but it isn’t enough. Not yet. “Your jacket pocket.” You smile over at him lazily. Jisung really outdid himself with the weed today.

“You don’t even care that a fight was about to break out next to you?” He cages you against the wall between strong arms. He plants a hand on either side of your shoulders and you bring the spliff up to his lips for an inhale. “I know you got me.”

You smile up at him and he breaks a bit. He takes the blunt from you and loosely sits it behind his ear while he pulls you into him. You take this opportunity to finish unbuckling his belt and move to the button of his pants. If it were up to you, you’d be on your knees already with a mouth full of him but he always likes to feel you first.

“You’re right.” He grabs you, wrapping you in his arms and swinging you around so that his back is to the wall and your back is to him. “I got you.”

He moves down the wall, dragging you into his lap and spreading your legs over his. His fingers tickle your skin as he hikes up your dress and slips your panties down until they pool at his feet.

Moans tumble forward as he sucks marks into your shoulder in between filthy whispers of all the things he’d like to do to you. You squirm at the sound of it all, already slipping deeper into that fucked out state just from his touch. The weed is hitting harder now, it’s peaking in your system and your core drips in response to it all.

"Shh shh, baby. You'll feel good soon, I promise." His fingers slip through your folds, spreading your slick before pressing into you slowly. You whine, too floaty to properly moan for him. "See, you feel good don't you? You like being stretched by my fingers, bunny? You like swallowing me up like that? "

You're shaking your head, mumbling confirmations mindlessly as he curls his fingers against your most sensitive spots. “I needed to feel my baby’s pretty pussy to calm down. You see what you do to me?”

You’re grabbing at his pants as he fucks into you, you scratch at the leather in a mindless attempt to ground yourself. "You're doing so well. You look so pretty like this, you know? You make me so fucking hard for you." He presses his bulge up into your ass and you moan breathlessly. He's so thick, his fingers are barely good enough to prepare to take all of him.

"Feel that?" You're shaking your head. "You'll suck it for me, won't you? You'll suck and slobber on my cock just how we love it, right?”

"Mmhm, 'm gonna suck it." He pushes his fingers in up to the knuckle and a particularly loud squelch of your cunt has you groaning.

"How does such a tiny pussy stretch out so perfectly?" Changbin kisses the back of your neck and around to your ear. He kisses and nibbles at the shell with whispers in between.

"You wanna wet my cock, bunny?" Kiss. "Wet my cock so I can treat this pussy just right." Kiss.

You're nodding as he pulls his fingers out of your messy cunt. His other arm wraps around your waist to keep your back flat against his chest while his slick soaked fingers push past your waiting lips. You suck and swirl your tongue the best you can, being fucked out and hazy.

Drool is dribbling down your chin as you suck just like Changbin wanted. "I want you to spit all of that onto my cock, keep all that spit in your mouth, okay?"

He's moving you over so that you're sitting on his jacket next to him. He tugs on his zipper and fights his pants down his thick thighs just enough for his cock to pop free from his boxers, you can feel more spit pool in your mouth at the sight of it. "Get it wet, baby, go ahead."

You clumsily sit up on your knees with Changbin’s support and lean forward a bit so that your mouth is right over his cock. His hand rests on the small of your back while the other takes the blunt from behind his ear

He takes a long drag as you pucker your lips and let the spit pooled in your mouth flow down onto his cock. It coats his tip, dripping down the sides and pooling at the hilt. "Ah, fuck, look at that." He praises you on his exhale, smoke clouds the two of you as he watches your hands wrap around his shaft and twist just the way that he likes.

"So fucking nasty, shit." You lean down to lick at his tip as you jerk him, twisting in opposite directions while your hands move up and down on his dick. "Kiss on it a little. Fuck, that's it, that's right, baby."

You plant open mouth kisses on the head of his cock and he tips his head back against the brick in ecstasy. Between the weed in his system and your godly hands jerking his cock he swears that he could ascend into a higher state of being.

"Gimme your throat, bunny." You move your hands, placing them on your lap like he taught you while his hand moves from the small of your back to the back of your head. He pushes your head down ever so slightly and bucks up gently. "Oh that throat, that tiny fucking - nuhhahh you're gonna make me cum."

He fucks your throat slow and deep, taking in the way that you swallow around him and choke a bit when he hits the back of your throat. "Fuck, c'mere. Pull your dress up." He lifts your head and helps you lift your dress up around your waist.

"Binnie is gonna slip into your pretty cunt is that okay?" He asks you, looking up at your low lidded eyes with his own. "Please, need you inside."

Those were the magic words to have Changbin positioning you in his lap. Your dripping cunt rests over his leaky dick and you grind down against him, his cock slips and slides perfectly between the lips of your pussy. The head of his cock bumps your clit just right, making you moan into the air and earning whines from Changbin.

"Baby, baby, baby. I can't take that." He guides you with one hand on your hip despite his protest to the impromptu pussy job. The sounds of your combined slick gets picked up by the slight breeze and is carried around you.

"Such a fucking tease, don't you wanna be fucked?" He brings the blunt up to his lips and then to yours. Allowing you to take a drag from between his fingers.

"Wan' your cum." You grind down harder, swirling your hips a bit faster. Changbin puts the blunt back behind his ear so that he has a free hand to land a firm slap to your ass while the other grips the plush of your hip tighter. You moan, throwing your head back and swaying a bit. The hand that was gripping your hip now wraps around your waist to keep you up while you move over him.

He exhales smoke into the air with a moan, his hips buck up into you and you put your hands on his strong chest to brace yourself. "Lift up, baby.”

You lift yourself, whining at the loss of contact but that pout is quickly replaced with pure bliss as he positions himself and sinks into you. "Bin - 's so full. So full of you."

He's whining too, moaning and biting at his bottom lip with his head kicked back and his eyes on you. "So tiny, fucking tight." You grind against him and he's popping your ass to get you to stay still.

"I'll cum." He shakes his head and you whine again. You busy yourself with planting kisses to his cheek and up the side of his neck. "Wan' your cum."

"Yeah? Fine." Both of his hands grab your waist and he presses further into you, interrupting your kiss with a deep moan. "She wants her cunt creampied, huh?" He's grunting as he pulls back, slamming into you again before repeating.

"Oh - ah ah - my god. Oh my god, oh my - ah" He's hammering into you now. Fucking up into you at a brutal pace while he holds you in place.

"Oh fuck, fuck, bunny's so - fucking - sounds so pretty. Such a pretty - shit, I'm gonna cum."

"Close, close." You're panting with your head hanging back and your tits bouncing out of the flimsy cups of your sundress. "There, there, right - I'm gonna cum, gonna fucking -"

You're screaming his name as you come undone. Spirts of squirt wet Changbin's torso as he continues to fuck you through your high and chase his own.

You're hanging on by a thread as you try to remember how to breathe. You’re staring up at the sky, moaning mindlessly as you blink up at the clouds. They’re hazy but they almost appear to be brighter, closer, more vibrant.

"Fuck I'm gonna bust, bunny. Gonna fill this pussy, yeah? Gotta fill it up. Get you full of - oh fuck, baby kiss me. Kiss me." You're sitting up in an instant and crashing your lips to his. You were already dizzy but the feeling of his lips on yours while he moans into your mouth mixed with his strong arms circling your waist as he holds you down against him and fills you with sticky white ropes of his cum makes you feel like you could really lose it.

"Ah ah ah, baby." High pitched whines tumble from him as you clench and grind against him as he rides out his high. "Don't, can't take that."

"More, Binnie." He smirks at you, it’s one sided and a bit lazy as his sparkling dark eyes look up at you on top of him. You're still stuffed with his cock. Your hole is plugged up to keep his cum inside and you want more.

"Greedy, baby."

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