#i usually play games for a bit then leave them for some months then come back so a subscription model is not a good thing for me

[seralica]

ugh so I remembered that Cozy Grove had a sequel in development and went to check up on it like "hey is that ready to play yet"

and it is...

but it's NETFLIX SUBSCRIBERS ONLY????????

What the fuuuuuuuuuuck

I know it's a bad time for game developers, and that plenty of subscription services are trying to draw more people in, and I'm glad the game was able to get made and exist and that it can bring more people joy instead of fizzling out if the studio went under

But I do NOT want to subscribe for my fucking games! I want to own the games! I want to buy them and have them! I don't want to have to subscribe forever! whyyyyyyy

[littlexdeaths]

fever pitch - r.b.

softball player robin buckley x cheerleader fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: all characters are 18+, oral (f receiving), fingering, public sex, thigh riding, secret relationship, allusions to sex, bullying, mean!dom robin, little bit of mean reader, jealous reader

this is a collab with the absolutely brilliant @undead-supernova !! i literally had so much fucking fun writing this with you august, and it might be my favorite robin fic i’ve ever written. i feel like our brains collided and made a gay ass baby and i’m so proud of us. we hope you enjoy xx.

word count: 3.7K

“Shhh, don’t want us getting caught like this do you?”

Robin’s voice is hushed but stern, now lifting her head from between your trembling thighs. The blonde has you spread out on a bench in the dugout, skirt shoved up around your hips as her tongue laps up everything you have to offer.

That is until a broken moan leaves your lips, unable to stop it as her fingers curl up inside you. The sound breaks through the silence, the only thing heard above the soft hum of cicadas.

“What would your little friends think, hmm?” she taunts, brow raised as she looks up at you, dirt still smeared across her cheeks from the game. “Knowing a loser is the one making you feel so good?”

In that moment you can’t find it within yourself to care anymore, gripping her hair in your fist to guide her back between your legs. “Let them.”

Robin hums, her lips drifting lower to nip at the tender skin of your thighs. The action causes another loud whimper to leave you. “You sure about that, honey?”

“I don’t care,” you admit out loud for the first time, thoughts completely overwhelmed with all things Robin.

“Fuck, I don’t care anymore,” you sigh.

Never in your wildest dreams would you think tonight would turn out like this.

You’d been watching her from the sidelines as she attempted to slide into homebase, coming up a little short. You’d never gotten to see her play before, your extracurriculars usually running at the same time. But today had been just your luck, with Chrissy spraining her ankle, immediately being rushed off to get it iced. Coach ended practice shortly after—no use continuing without the star of the squad there, right?

It gave you the perfect opportunity to watch her without raising any suspicion—two of your teammates by your side, laughing as Robin struck out. You took your lower lip between your teeth, trying not to gawk as she rose to her feet. Dusting the dirt off her thighs when she caught your eye, biting back a smirk as she made her way towards the dugout.

But not before stopping by where you were leaning against the bleachers. Right there, in front of everyone for the first time.

See, this has been going on for months. The sneaking around, the feigned rivalry.

If only they knew what was really happening behind closed doors.

You first noticed her late one afternoon, walking to your car after cheer practice. Robin hadn’t even crossed your radar, barely a glance in the hallway. Too wrapped up in your own world to notice. But there was just something about the warm glow of the sunset laying against her flushed cheek. The way she found your eyes, like she knew your secret, before she spit out the shell of a sunflower seed. Chuckling as she grabbed her bat and walked off.

All you knew after that was you desperately wanted to know more. And boy, did you.

You quickly learned through word of mouth that she had been caught hooking up with some girl in the band room after school. That confirmation prompted you to start dropping her little hints. Longing glances when no one was paying attention, nods in the hallway. Sneaking out of practice early just so she’d notice you walk by. And, sure, she noticed.

But Robin wasn’t going to come easy, was she?

No, she wanted to make you work for it. To prove to her you were serious, not just another girl looking to make out with her for the thrill of it. Or some sick joke conjured up by the cheer squad to humiliate her more.

You quickly realized that your subtle hints were not going to get you what you wanted. Her.

One day you’d finally had enough, boldly slipping a note in her locker between classes. Coaxing her to meet you in the secluded alley between the gym and the cafeteria. A place you’d only used to meet a certain super senior when you wanted to buy some weed.

A spot unknown or used by the majority of the students of Hawkins High, knowing you wouldn’t be seen or heard by any curious passersby.

Part of you was worried she wouldn't show, becoming increasingly more nervous as time passed. Any lingering qualms were squashed when you saw her striding down the narrow path towards you. She looked good, her dark jeans hugging her hips just right. A button-up shirt tucked loosely into them, the top few buttons left open.

You wanted nothing more than to lean forward, closing the short distance between your bodies. Leave a trail of blues and purples along her exposed skin. And that terrified you, to know that one girl could mess you up in such a monumental way.

“So,” you mumbled, kicking a pebble with the tip of your sneaker.

“So,” she answered, crossing her arms over her chest.

Without hesitation, you introduced yourself but Robin gave you a confused look.

“Yeah, I already know who you are.”

“You do?”

“Well, we’ve gone to school together our whole lives…” she paused, running a hand through her hair, “and when a girl is practically eye-fucking you in the halls, it’s hard not to notice.”

“Oh, right,” you replied, looking down. Embarrassment washed over you. “Sorry, I guess I misinterpreted this whole thing.”

You carefully pushed off the wall, ready to walk away and pretend like this whole thing never happened. Save yourself the humiliation.

But her soft voice stopped you in your tracks.

“I wouldn't say that.”

“Then what would you say?” you asked, more confident now.

“You’re the one who asked me here,” Robin pointed out, turning the focus back to you.

And just as quickly as your confidence had risen, it fell. So you looked down again, now fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“I don’t, um,” you struggled. “I don’t really know how to say it. I just…I…”

“Oh, just spit it out already.”

You looked up at her exasperated expression, narrowing your eyes. “Fine! Fine. Whatever. I like you, okay?”

“Like me? We’ve never spoken.”

“Don’t give me that when I’ve seen the way you look at me too.”

Robin’s hardened expression fell. “Touché.”

Silence fell between you, Robin lifting her head to look at the sky. You couldn’t help but squirm again, feeling a desperate urge to breathe in her scent.

You sighed. “So, what do we do now?”

“Hell if I know,” she replied, looking back at you. “I thought you were stuck up like the rest of your prissy friends.”

“Not when I’m around you,” you admitted, barely above a whisper. “You make me feel…different, somehow.”

“I could make it much worse for you, you know,” Robin replied, a smug grin reaching her lips as she stepped closer to you. “All you have to do is ask.”

“Please—”

“Actually, no,” Robin interrupted, fingers inching towards your hip. “You should beg.”

“Please,” you said without hesitation. “Please, Robin. I need you.”

Robin knew she shouldn’t. And so did you. But there was just something there, pressing against your chests as Robin pressed you against the brick. And when she kissed you the first time, you nearly whined in contentment, mewling softly against her mouth.

That kiss left you feeling desperate, eager for her to show you more. However, Robin wasn’t going to chase you, forcing you to take matters into your own hands. You sought her out one night after practice, pulling her into the equipment room outside the gym. Backing her body against the door, lips meeting once you heard the lock click into place.

“Just couldn’t stay away now, could you, baby?” she mumbled against your mouth, pulling a soft whine from you as she nipped at your lower lip. The noise caused her to laugh softly.

“I want you, Robs.”

She hummed in response, letting her lips trail across your jaw. “Want me how?” she prodded as the tip of her nose skimmed along your collarbone, rendering you utterly speechless.

“Show me,” she breathed, further stealing the breath from your lungs as she kissed you deeply. Taking control as she flipped your positions, enclosing you against the door.

You’re pliable under her soft touch, guiding her fingers up and underneath your pleated skirt. The blue of her irises nearly swallowed whole by her pupils as she gazed at you hungrily. That look ignited something within you, feeling emboldened as you reached forward to undo her pants. Exploring each other in a way that was unfamiliar to you, her skilled fingers helping to guide you with ease.

After that, it was just your little secret, with no one being the wiser. Why would they? You were on the opposite ends of the food chain, fractured by the Hawkins High hierarchy. Leaving little glances across the cafeteria, brushes of your fingertips in the hallway as a secret reminder of what you two had. It didn’t hurt that you could sit in class, practice, or even the shower and think about how they’d brush against your breasts later.

Of course, you couldn’t help but wind her up whenever you could be overheard. As she would gladly put you in your place in private.

But you knew as she approached you on the field with that familiar glint in her eye— you were really in for it this time.

“What’s so funny?” Robin asked, removing her gloves. You let your eyes linger on her fingers for a moment as she gripped the leather. Quickly shifting your gaze elsewhere as you pressed your thighs together.

Something the blonde didn’t miss. Holding back a smug smile as she looked between the three of you.

“You’re just such a loser,” Carol snickered, snapping her gum between her teeth.

Heather joined in with a giggle. “Yeah, maybe you should look into joining the t-ball team. Seems like a much better fit for you.”

Heather knew she struck a nerve, pleased with herself as Robin’s jaw clenched in anger.

“Oh, yeah?” Robin said, ready to egg her on. “And what do you know, Holloway? I’d like to see you do something other than shake your ass at Billy Hargrove during games. Don’t you find it pathetic how desperate you are for his attention?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Heather snapped back. “As if you are getting any. No one even knows your name.”

“You’d be surprised,” Robin replied, her eyes shifting towards you as if on instinct. “You know, I don’t recall ever seeing this one with a guy.”

“You better get back to that pitch before you strike out, Buckley,” you bit back, shooting her a warning look. “Again.”

With a shake of her head, Robin glanced behind you at your “friends” before scoffing and turning. But not before she took her cleat and scuffed up dirt onto your shiny white sneakers.

“Oops.” She laughed, giving you one last look before walking away.

Not missing a beat, Heather turned to you with a bewildered expression. “You know her name?”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s on her uniform.”

“Oh— right,” she murmured, the conversation quickly forgotten as they discussed their plans for the night: yet another kegger at the Harrington residence. It was something you definitely weren’t interested in attending.

Though they begged you to join them, you merely shrugged and told them to go without you. They didn’t even blink before heading off, their laughter fading as quickly as it started. But you soon found yourself lost in the chatter of the crowd and the roar of the umpire.

You decided to move up, leaning against the chain-link fence, pom-poms thrown to the dirt as you watched your girl stepping up to bat again. The score had been tied, this being Hawkins High’s last chance to win the game.

As always, Robin found you again. She gave you a wink before you heard the sharp crack of the bat. You gasped along with the crowd at the sight of the ball shooting through the sky and into the parking lot.

You couldn’t help the loud cheer erupting from your lips, clapping along with the crowd as she sprinted through each base with ease. And as she slid into home and was declared safe, her eyes met yours. They followed you as she picked herself up, sweat dripping as she removed her helmet. Shaking her dampened hair out with a wide grin.

There was no longer anything inside you that beckoned you to be malicious. You could feel a swell of pride inside you, wanting nothing more than to show her just how incredible she was. How much you cared about her…and you planned on it.

Her teammates were quick to surround her, lifting her up onto their shoulders as the crowd continued to cheer. Robin was clearly embarrassed by the sudden swarm of attention, her cheeks beautifully flushed as they carried her across the field. Soaking in the glory for a few more moments before they were called to line up, shaking hands with the opposing team.

But as everyone began to clear out, you noticed Beth Wildfire hanging back, laughing near the dugout with Robin. As you moved closer, you could make out the way Beth was checking out Robin’s ass as she bent over to grab her glove.

Robin lifted her head slightly, noticing you making your way over.

“Nice win, Buckley,” Beth said, popping in a piece of gum. “We should go out and celebrate.”

“Oh, yeah?” Robin asked, a devious smile on her lips as she rose. You couldn’t stop the jealousy beginning to surface. “You think we should invite the team?”

She was making you work for it, wasn’t she?

“Actually, I thought maybe you and I could—”

“Hey, Robin,” you said, directly in Beth’s line of sight now.

Beth gave you a look, clearly annoyed by your interruption.

Good.

“Hey,” Robin greeted. “What’s up?”

“You still need that ride?” you asked, clutching your pom poms tighter in your fists.

“I’d almost forgotten,” Robin replied smugly.

“Well, uh,” Beth said, taking a step closer to Robin. “I could always take her home after heading to Benny’s.”

“No, that’s alright,” you said curtly, faking a smile as you also took a step forward. “I think I’ve got it from here.”

You and Beth exchanged glances before her eyes widened, flickering between you and Robin who was only looking at you. Beth said nothing, opting instead to give you both a quick nod. But the clear disappointment on her face brought you more joy than you cared to admit.

“I’ll see you later, then,” she said. “Again, nice win, Buckley.”

Even as she walked away, Robin never broke eye contact. “Thanks, Beth,” she called out, a grin widening on her lips.

“Ready to go, mon chéri? I’m starving.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

And that’s how you ended up here, your legs draped over Robin’s shoulders as her tongue circles over your clit. One hand buried in her hair and the other clutching onto the chain link fence behind you. Her blue hues never leave your face, taking in each and every reaction she pulls from you.

“You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re jealous.” She grins, flicking the tip of her tongue over your swollen clit. Enjoying the way your body twitches with every motion.

“I wasn’t jealous.”

You breathlessly try to deny it, but you both know you’re lying. Once again letting your pride get in the way, prompting Robin to remove her tongue from your center.

“No— Robbie, please,” you whine as she pulls away fully, resting her cheek against your inner thigh as she continues to slowly thrust her fingers inside you.

She revels in the way your walls grip tightly around the digits, almost as if you’re trying to keep them trapped inside. And as much as she loves feeling you, she loves making you beg even more.

So she slips her fingers out of your dripping cunt completely. Standing up to hover over you as she brings them to your lips.

“Please what, princess?” she taunts, her fingers now slipping into your mouth. Your tongue eagerly swirling around the digits until they’re devoid of any trace of you.

Robin removes them just as fast, trailing the saliva-coated digits down your jaw until they wrap around the base of your throat. “Answer me,” her harsh tone only further dampening the area between your thighs.

“Please don’t stop,” you plead without hesitation, rocking your hips up against her thigh. A look of desperation flitting across your features as you clutch onto her shoulders.

“Aww, you wanna cum, pretty thing?” Her tone is laced with condescension, finding yourself nodding almost frantically as you gaze up at her.

“I don’t know, baby… you were pretty mean earlier.” She paused, a small pout forming on your lips as she traced over them with her thumb. “You think you deserve it?”

You nod as if on instinct, whining as she pulls away from you completely. Rising to her feet once again, grabbing your hands and pulling you up off the bench. Your breasts press together as she whispers softly in your ear, “Prove it to me, then.”

You eagerly reach for the buttons on her uniform, tugging the zipper down. Impatiently yanking her pants down over the curve of her ass as you take back control.

“Sit,” you demand, resting your hands on her shoulders. Coaxing her to take your previous position on the worn bench.

“So bossy,” she teases, gripping your hips as you swing your leg over her thigh.

Taking a seat as you slip your fingers past the elastic of her underwear, moaning at the wetness you find there.

“This all for me?” you muse, your thumb brushing over her bundle of nerves with ease now. Having become quite familiar with every inch of her body over the last three months.

“I mean… Beth was looking good tonight—”

You cut her off with your mouth before she has a chance to finish her sentence. That surge of jealousy coursing through your veins as you kiss her deeply.

“She can’t have you,” you mumble against her mouth, before taking her lower lip between your teeth and tugging. “You're all mine.”

Robin curses softly as you begin to grind your hips against her thigh, slipping two fingers into her awaiting heat. Pumping them in tandem with each rock of your hips, as she mewls against your mouth.

“Please.” Now she's the one doing the begging, despite your hips continuing to grind down against her thigh. The mixture of her saliva and your juices making a mess on her bare skin.

You giggle softly as you increase the pressure on her clit with your thumb, burying your fingers deeper inside her. “Say it again.” She moans as you attach your lips to the base of her throat.

The blonde tilts her head back to expose more of her neck as you greedily suck on her flushed skin. A feeling of pride washes over you as you leave blotches of red and purple in your wake.

“You’re mine, Robin.” Your tone is overly possessive, enjoying how her body trembles beneath you. Your words being the thing to finally send her over the edge as she pulls your face back up to crash her lips against yours.

Her fingers dig harshly into the skin of your hips, encouraging you to keep grinding on her thigh. Lifting her leg to increase the pressure on your core. “That’s it… such a good girl.”

She pulls back slightly to watch you with hooded eyes, lips lifting in a genuine smile.

“My good girl.”

Her words elicit a bigger response than either of you expected, your thighs tightening around her own as you loudly cry out her name. Her hands continue to guide you along her thigh, working you through each wave of euphoria that crashes over you.

You’re both panting as you begin to come down from your highs, nuzzling your face in the crook of her neck. “Wow,” you breathe out, lightly tracing over the darkening love bites on her neck.

“Jeez, I think the whole town heard you,” Robin teases, running her fingers along your back.

“Well,” you start, pulling back to look at her. “I’m just trying to congratulate my girl on her big win.”

“Your girl?” she teases.

You bite your lip, trying to hide your smile. “Mhm.”

“Admit it,” Robin says, lifting her eyebrows, eyes tracing the lines of your face. “You were jealous.”

“Maybe I was,” you finally admit, earning an amused smile from her. “But I don’t think I have to worry about anyone else.”

“No?”

“Mm-mm.”

You press a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth before standing, helping her to her feet. Leaning back against the fence as she wiggles her pants back up over her hips.

Robin is still fastening the buttons as you walk out onto the field. Her eyes follow your figure as you reach the pitcher's mound. A fond look falls over her features as your eyes flutter shut, letting the last glow of the setting sun soak into your pores.

Feeling the weight of her stare, you turn back around. Flashing her a beaming smile as she finally reaches you on the field.

“So… Benny’s?” you ask, twisting your skirt back into place. “I’m actually starving now.”

Robin looks at you in utter disbelief as she places her hat back on her head, the brim facing the opposite direction. “Wait, you’re serious? What if someone sees us together?”

You can’t stop the giggle that leaves you, now closing the few feet separating you from her. Cupping her face in between your palms as you press another kiss to her lips.

Right in the middle of the open field.

“I told you,” you say, louder this time. “Let them see us. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

You slip your hand into hers, lacing your fingers as you begin leading her towards your car. A sight to see, her bat and glove in her unoccupied hand. Your pom-poms in yours.

“You were still an asshole earlier, you know that?” Robin says.

As you share a laugh, you swing your intertwined hands back-and-forth. You’re practically skipping as you pull her along, light-hearted and winded.

“And you ruined my sneakers,” you counter. “Are you gonna clean them for me?”

“Only if you’re good, mon chéri.”

“I think I can manage that,” you reply as you venture further into the twilight. “At least for a little bit.”

tagging some moots 💕

@xxbimbobunnyxx @babygorewhore @impmunson @voyeurmunson @eddiesxangel @taintedcigs @strangerstilinski

[charliemwrites]

…. So Mister(s) steal your girl, huh?

Content: Unhappy Relationship, (Brief) Gaslighting, Sad Reader

Bombshells, you always thought, were supposed to making a whistling sound before landing. A high pitched warning of impending doom. Too late to escape the incoming devastation, but at least it wouldn’t come out of nowhere. There’d be some time to brace, for all the good it would do.

Maybe you watched too many movies.

Three months. That’s how long you got to enjoy the bliss of engagement before the world began to fall around you.

Your fiance came home and sat you down, his hand around yours. You thought he was breaking it off for some reason. What he did instead was worse.

In the aftermath you can only remember snippets of the one-sided conversation. Like tinnitus, an awful running in your ears left over from a dropped bomb.

Things like,

Still young, I want to explore…

How will I know you’re my forever unless I know what’s out there?

Last bit of freedom before being tied down…

If you love me and our relationship…

You love your fiance and your relationship. You don’t want to lose it just because you’re selfish. He’s still coming home to you, after all. You’re the one with the ring and all the plans for the future. So what if he wants to… explore? He’s even offering the same to you.

An open relationship, he calls it, like it’s some innovative idea.

You’ve heard of them before, never had much interest. Still don’t, honestly, but it was that or the desolution of 4 years.

You insisted on a long engagement. Your fiance promises that you two can revisit the open relationship when you’re married.

Within a week of agreeing, he’s leaves for the weekend. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going, who he’s meeting. He comes back Sunday evening smelling like someone else’s perfume with a hickey on his collarbone. When you refuse any advances, he sighs and says he “understands that this is a transition” and goes to shower.

It’s like that for six months. Weekends without him. Sometimes sending him off Friday morning and not seeing him until Monday evening. Lipstick on his collars, strange perfume invading the laundry. You start doing his clothes separately.

Six months. You spend months suffering in silence, sniffling through Saturdays and drifting through Sundays. Adjusting meal plans to cook for one.

The last straw is when you try to make plans on a holiday. You and your fiance haven’t done on a proper date in months. You want to go out, have all his attention on you, not shared with his phone.

“Ooh, sorry dear, I’ve already got plans with Malorie. Rain check, yeah? We’ll do something next week.”

You decide to go out anyway, sick of feeling sorry for yourself. Nothing fancy, just a bit of self care. You buy yourself a cute new outfit, put on a bit more makeup than usual, do your hair. Find an interesting little late night book shop. They serve wine and food and have comfy booths for people to read or talk or play board games.

The perfect place to be out but alone.

You’re debating the merits of a romance novel when a voice comes from your left.

“Love that one.”

You blink, glance up. Find a handsome man with eyes simultaneously so dark and so warm. Coals, you think. There’s a cheeky little quirk to his mouth as he nods at the novel.

“It’s good if you like will-they, won’t-they.”

You hum. “I’m more in the market for something… easier? If that makes sense.”

He hums, gives you a solemn look. “It does. Here, you might like this then.”

He plucks a book off the shelf and offers it for inspection. You feel awkward reading it the summary thoroughly, especially when you can feel his eyes on you. But you skim it, it looks promising, and a hot guy just suggested it, so…

“Read a lot of romance?” you ask curiously.

He ducks his head a bit, endearingly shy. “A bit, yeah. Call me hopeless.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, but can’t help saying. “I think it’s just romantic.”

His eyes light up. “Yeah? And what kind of books d’you usually like?”

Before you know it, you’re talking thrillers and horror novels with him. Recommending your favorite spooky novel and then following up that you always read a comedy afterwards as a palette cleanser.

You end up touring each other around the shop, talking books and authors and genres. Yet you’re somehow surprised when he asks if you’d like to sit with him. But you agree, a little thrill in your stomach that you haven’t felt since… a while.

You each buy a stack of books, then claim a booth and proceed to read none of them. He tells you his name is Kyle, that he’s in the military but on leave right now, stocking up on entertainment for flights or long spans of hurrying up and waiting.

You’ve never met a military guy before, and you trip over your curiosity. Trying not to pry but interested in what he does. He’s polite and patient, admitting there are a lot of things he can’t tell you but he’ll answer. You don’t stay on the subject long, figuring the last thing he wants to talk about it work.

He gets you back in the department of uncomfortable topics when he notices the ring on your finger. You’re quick to explain the situation, hot with shame all over again, eyes stinging despite yourself.

Instead of mocking you or just getting up and walking away, Kyle sits back looking flabbergasted.

“That’s fucking mental,” he says, “excuse me for saying.”

You burst into laughter. Haven’t told anyone any of this out of embarrassment, but hearing someone on your side is… good.

“I thought so too, but… he’s happy,” you admit.

Kyle frowns. “What about you?”

You blink, can’t look him in the eye. You know the answer but make a show of thinking about it.

“I’d… like to be again. This — the open relationship thing — seems to be working for him. So… maybe it’ll work for me too?” You shrug. “Worth a try.”

Kyle reaches across the table, a big warm hand enveloping yours. There are callouses you’re not expecting. Tantalizingly different.

“Would you like to try it with me?” he asks. “Don’t have to put a label on it or anything. But my schedule is a bit… it’s hard to keep up a traditional relationship, you know? But I like you, and I think your fiance is a knob.”

You snort, but flip your hand around, thumb brushing over his.

“Yeah…” you muse, and after saying it, a surge of confidence infuses you. “Yeah, I’d like to try this with you.”

His smile is absolutely brilliant. You won’t admit — not even to yourself for a long time — but you fall in love a little right then and there.

Next

Masterlist

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

somnophilia with John wick from the prompts? 👉🏽👈🏽

jw & fem reader

gif by the wonderful @scarlettspectra. TRIGGER WARNING(s) Somnophilia (from Latin somnus "sleep" and Greek φιλία, -philia "friendship") is a paraphilia in which an individual becomes sexually aroused by someone who is unconscious. & a bit of exhibitionism

You had waited for him all day. Flitting around the house, cleaning and cooking and making sure everything was in line for his arrival. Wearing his favorite dress, playing his favorite music on the stereo, chilling a fresh bottle of his favorite bourbon.

A month and a half. That’s how long it had been since you last saw the person  whose presence gave meaning to your life. So, naturally, you were brimming with excitement, heart pattering wild and strong in your chest, body giddy and jittery—unable to regulate haywire nerves. John was coming home. 

He wasn’t often gone for this long. It was an important job. Something involving a very, very rich man paying him to complete a very, very difficult task. Of course, you knew what his tasks usually included, but didn’t like to think about it too much—couldn’t think about it too much…

It was just hard to imagine…your John killing someone. The same John that took bugs outside instead of squashing them, who cleaned up his bar table and tipped more than generously, who always held the door open and returned shopping carts. Who was sweet and kind and treated you like you were made of paper-thin glass unless you specifically requested otherwise. 

The text comes in mid-evening, just as you’re putting his untouched dinner away and cleaning up the kitchen. Hey, dollbaby, my flight got delayed until tomorrow at six AM. I’m sorry. Don’t stay up worrying about me.

It’s disappointing, but you have to admit you’re used to this. It just comes with what he does, and you’ll gladly endure it with a smile for him. However, that doesn’t mean you can grant his request and stop yourself from worrying. With a little sigh, you type back: Okay, John. Love you.

I Love you, too.

You try and pass the time; go for a late swim, read a book, snuggle up on the big leather couch to scroll TV channels for movies. Except none of that works to distract you from John’s missing shadow, and you just end up with your head buried in a throw pillow, inhaling his residual scent and pretending the cushion is his chest.

You decide to invite some friends over for a good distraction, and they bring card games and beer and wine. You have your own stash of alcohol, so between you and three of you closest, you end up drinking a little too much and passing out halfway through game night. 

John finds you in the icy blue light of breaking dawn, breathing even and slow and slung haphazardly on top of your mattress. The residual burn of spirits heat your skin ruddy, and you have long since kicked the comforter off to leave yourself bare and unsuspecting of the hungry wolf who’s cock fattens at the sight of you—his big tshirt snuggling against your curves, the hint of a panty seam visible along the soft skin of your hip

He discards his clothes into a pile on the floor, too starved for flesh to care about being his usual tidy self, and climbs on the bed to run the tip of his tongue along that delicious cut crease of supple flesh.

You stir and whine, hand coming up momentarily to bat the tickly feeling away, only to weakly fall back down onto the bed, its task lost in the dark deep of your slumber. 

With a wicked grin, he moves his mouth down your thigh, licks into the seam behind your knee, then treks a wet path of kisses over your calves. You squirm and kick, trapped by heavy sleep, defenseless under his tongue.

He knows that, by now, you’d be begging him sweetly to make you cum, arching up into his teasing mouth for more, hanging on to his beautiful throw of silky hair as he laps at your panties. Always so impatient, his sweet girl. 

God, he missed you. Missed your smell and taste, the way you buck your hips, that little tender space between thigh and cunt that makes you squeal when he flicks it with his tongue. 

He nudges your panties to the side to reveal an already glistening wet and swollen pussy, your clit ripe and fresh, ready for his mouth to pluck and taste. Even in your sleep, you’re more than ready to sheath his cock.

He suckles at your folds gently while you stir awake with a sleepy little moan. “J-joh-jjj,” you slurr, gripping at the plump pillows while your cunt tenses and thighs attempt closing. 

So sensitive in that foggy place between sleep and wake, with his familiar mouth on you, impatient and insistent.

He holds your thighs open and eats—devours your cunt sloppily from the back, groaning about how good you taste and how much he missed it. “It’s okay, baby, no no no, come’ere, I gotcha. That’s my girl.” Two fingers curled inside, coaxing a fast approaching orgasm from your perfect little pussy. 

“Gonna, gonna-ah c-cum,” you tell him, clenching on his fingers, once shy clit now grinding down onto his tongue. You’ve just missed him so much, and it’s been so long, and you haven’t even touched yourself at his specific request, so it’s no surprise that it only takes seconds of cunnulingus just the way he’s learned you love it to have you soaking the sheets below your hips. 

“Good job,” he coos, bringing you down with little kisses to your puffy lips and chafed thighs, sucking his fingers clean and closing his eyes against the savory flavor of your slick. “You okay, babydoll?” 

“Uh huh,” you tell him, still twitching from the heavy orgasm, eyes threatening to close again, too tired to wipe the little bit of spittle off your chin. 

You feel him shift behind you, and then his thick tip press against your still spasming entrance, ready to overwhelm and overstimulate and leave you a babbling mess. His cock is built for your pleasure and demise, and as he enters, invading and pillaging the sensitive walls of your cunt, your eyes fly open and you sob into the pillow.

Something like, “o-oh fuck-“

“Shhh, baby.” His warm touch finds the base of your skull, that soft tug on your unkempt tangles guiding you back into his slow, deliberate thrusts. “Your friends are in the living room, gotta be quiet for me.” 

“Y-yeah Jo-ohn.” You try and tell him just how much you missed him, but the words jumble and stick, translating to half-muffled moans. Tears bead at your waterline in submission to that first stretch of his unfairly girthed cock. 

He understands your incoherent babbles perfectly. “Fuck,” he growls, tip kissing your cervix, “I missed you, too. Missed this tight little cunt.”

You have to bite down on your knuckles to keep the animalistic sounds of pleasure at bay, as he fucks you. So often, this beautiful man makes love to you, slow and soft. This is not one of those times. 

If you could think, it would be about how loud the sound of his hard pelvis clapping against your soft ass is, as he chases that otherwise unobtainable high that only your cunt can bring—that he thought about every single minute he was gone…the reason he’s alive.

You’re sobbing from it all—the way he splits you open so perfectly, the tiny dark whispers of reassurance, the fact that he’s alive and well and all over and around you; big hand pressing your lower back down for better and deeper access inside your cunt.

The way he just knows, even in his own rough desperation, how to unravel you—make you see the cosmos and beyond, into the soupy blackness of unexplored universe. 

“You coming again, baby?” He doesn’t have to ask, because he knows you are, more than familiar with the way you unfold and shatter. 

“Y-yeah-huh.”

He puts you on your back with practiced gentleness, and cups your sweaty cheeks in his hands before sucking your bite-swollen lower lip into his mouth, managing to stay buried inside you through the easy transition, swallowing your whimpers while his cock works out the final flutters of your orgasm. 

“Oh, John,” you say, when he stops licking at your throat to allow the both of you some much-needed, panting breath. “F-fuck, John.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he says, brushing the sweaty hair off your temples and pecking tiny wet kisses over your face. “I gotcha, it’s okay. Johnny’s here. Open your pretty eyes, let me see you.” 

In a deep, stuttering thrust, when you clamp like a vice around him, he loses himself inside of you, and you are with him. Utterly overtaken, love burning through your blood, body singing in rapturous heavenly choir. This is as close to the pearly gates you will ever get, you think, as you float down from the high. 

There is a cut on his temple that you failed to notice, and you touch just below. “You got hurt.” 

“I’m better, now.” 

With him nestled beside you, arms wrapping around and sheltering your body with his own, legs supporting your bottom and cock still softening inside your cunt, you feel sleep creep back up like an old friend.

It isn’t long before he’s succumbed to it, himself, happily snoozing nestled in your hair. You don’t know what he’s been through in that long stretch of absence, but it doesn’t matter now. 

He’s here with you, and that’s enough.

[often-daydreaming]

Road Trip

It was... It was always just a fight but the last one between Jason and Bruce had been one of their worst and things only escalated after he accused Jason of having something to do with the Joker's disappearance.

It was another thing to hold against him. Another excuse to keep the Red Hood at arms length but Barbara knows Jason wasn't anywhere near Gotham when the clown went missing. Bruce checked. Tim double checked, but she knows because it wasn't like Jason was even trying to hide from any of them.

He was just traveling.

At first it was with the rest of the Outlaws for a bit and on and off after for a while afterwards with the rest of his team joining up at different points along his trip across the country.

He'd spent weeks spent on the road from New York to Pennsylvania before anyone even noticed the Joker was gone, then took a detour down to Atlanta and through Kentucky. The weekend after that was spent traveling between Michigan and Toronto and a surprising sighting in Kansas which was one of the only stops she still didn't understand since he'd have to be traveling all night just to get to that small town he'd been spotted in and Jason didn't seem to be in any hurry.

A part of her had been tempted to call Kara and see if she'd look into the matter for her but cases kept piling up and they got busy. If it wasn't the usual villain of the day causing trouble then it was the power vacuum left behind by the still missing Joker or one the guys getting into trouble. So she left it alone.

Jason didn't seem like he was in any trouble. He'd come back sooner or later. He always came back. Except he didn't. Weeks turned into months, then a full year passed them by as sightings of the Red Hood grew less and less frequent and it was only a preemptive notification she sat up so long ago that reminded her of Jason's absence as she stares down at the computer monitor playing a few seconds of footage displaying a small crowd of people, the Outlaws, some of Young Justice and the Titans along with a few other people who were cheering him on as he slipped a ring on some red haired woman's finger. The context was clear enough but she didn't find out more about the what and why until later that night when Roy sent out an update to the rest of the Titans claiming dibs on being the best man.

The above is just something that I cobbled together after reading a few Jason leaves Gotham fics and the thought of Jazz killing the Joker for (insert reasons) so my mind kind of jumped to Jason living out his best Cinderella moment, chasing after, flirting (along with getting threatened by a pair of overprotective parents) and road tripping with his team while trying to find the woman who lost her bloody baseball bat. After they meet he's just doubling down on everything with the intent of marrying her, Jazz getting her own little road trip, telling Jason where they're going next or even making a game out of if he can find her at the next stop on the Fenton family supernatural hunting/cataloging road trip cause I know they love talking about ghost but the image of Jack and Maddie fighting Bigfoot is amazing.

And the Fentons are happy for the two of them. At least he wasn't another Johnny. They had Tucker check just to be sure while everyone else just kind of assumes the rest of the bat family already knew when it was actually a mix of (we're super busy right now) and (maybe things will be a little peaceful if we give Jason some space) leaving Bruce trying to play catch up and depending on if he's reformed having to outdo Vlad who is already paying for everything.

[candy-heart-brew]

I've seen some fans theorize that the lyrics to "Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight" tie into Frank's developing relationship with Eddie, potentially foreshadowing a grisly end for a favorite mailman. The lyrics are incredibly emotional and poor Frank sounds like he's fighting back tears during this entire record, making it feel like there's something more going on under the surface. While it's entirely possible that this is meant to foreshadow Frank and Eddie eventually being separated, I think the song's symbolism could be pointing to a different direction...

I touched a bit on this in a different post but to summarize: the attitude that Frank displays during "Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight" is completely at odds to his reaction to Eddie at the party. During BaBaG he's sad but resigned to fate, he knows that hibernation is inevitable but takes a bit of comfort in the knowledge that it's only temporary and that his loneliness will only last through winter. So, he does his best to power through, keep his personal feelings out of it, and assure his little friends that he'll be alright.

By contrast, his reaction to Eddie's behavior at the party is one of panic and confusion. He doesn't understand what's happening to Eddie or why he's suddenly gone unresponsive, he just knows that he isn't acting like himself at all and he can't accept that. He refuses to leave Eddie alone even after being ignored, continuing to push until he gets a response, at which point he immediately realizes something is wrong and tries to push further, only stopping when Eddie leaves. At this point in the story they don't appear to be especially close but Frank's terrified reaction speaks volumes about his true feelings for Eddie. And if this is how he reacts to him being quieter than usual, I can't imagine that he'd be much calmer or more composed in the event of losing Eddie altogether. IMO, he's far more likely to get angry and demand answers rather than wax poetic. So while "Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight" could potentially foreshadow Eddie's fate, Frank's subdued reaction makes me question that interpretation. I do think there's a deeper meaning to BaBaG, that Frank is singing about something other than bugs, just not Eddie. But then who? Well, as we found out in this last update, bugs are not the only creatures in the neighborhood that hibernate...

Think about it for a moment- Julie is going to be gone for months, leaving Frank all alone without his best friend. Who's going to invite him to games now? Who's going to listen to him about his interests and laugh at his jokes? Who's going to bake gelatin monstrosities with him? Julie is practically his other half so to lose her for months on end must be very difficult for him! He knows that she can't help it and he doesn't blame her but that hardly makes it any easier. All he can really do now is just push that sadness down, wish her goodnight, and wait for her to return.

Under this interpretation, certain lyrics in BaBaG take on a different meaning to me. Lines like "I know it's for the best, I can't keep you," or "I'll be the first to tell you, you just can't stay," could imply an oncoming rift between the two of them. The recent updates have implied that Frank and Julie were written to be a couple and were perceived as such in-universe. We don't yet know how the two of them felt about that but we do know that they were very close to the point of doing basically everything together! But now Frank is falling in love with someone else, someone who may very well come to eclipse Julie in terms of importance to him. No matter how much he loves her, no matter how much they might want to stay together, there are some things you just can't fight and this play-relationship they have can't last forever...

But that's just my interpretation!

[f1daydreamers]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟓

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arne, in hopes to focus on his team’s mental health as much as their physical, recruits a younger but just as educated psychologist to work one-to-one with the more reserved players. Trent is one of them.

A/N: guyssss!!!! ur support means the world, the sun, the moon, the solar system to me like everything!!! some of the comments u leave got me feeling like Y/N fr, big mwahs for u all! I made this part a little longer as an apology for making you wait for so long!

Warnings: more fluff, Trent slowly starting to open up methinks, angst, pressure, high-stress environment, very slow burn

Word Count: 3.1k words (11 mins reading avg)

…

You were seated at your desk, carefully closing the backs of the picture frame. You smiled as you secured the last clip, the image now safely enclosed behind the glass. It was a small comfort, one you could look at during the demanding days.

Before you had the chance to prop it up on your new cabinet, Lee entered with a folder in hand. You left your frame face-down as you stood up, and rounded your desk to greet him.

"Saw your email. Everything okay?"

Lee gave you a quick, apologetic smile as he handed you the folder. "Yeah. Won't be able to make the Man United game this weekend."

He handed you a folder emblazoned with the Man United logo, stuffed with the players' reports.

You raised an eyebrow, more concerned than curious. "That's unlike you. What's come up?"

He leaned against the edge of your desk, folding his arms. "Got to attend a family thing, non-negotiable. But that's not the only reason I'm here."

His tone shifted, more serious now. "I need you to step in and travel with the squad as the on-hand psychologist."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Me? But... I mean, I usually handle things from here. Are you sure?"

Lee nodded, his expression firm. "I wouldn't ask if I wasn't. You've been great with some of the boys so far, and they trust you. This game is going to be intense, and they'll need your support. Plus, it's good for them to have some consistency, especially with me out."

It all made sense, but the reality of it hit hard. You’d only been here for two months, barely building trust through a handful of sessions a week. Now, being thrown into the deep end at Old Trafford for an away game just felt like career suicide.

You bit your lip, the weight of the responsibility starting to settle in. The thought of traveling with the team, being there in the thick of it, was both exciting and daunting.

"I don't know, Lee. What if-" Your voice wavered, playing with the corners of the folder in your hand.

"You'll be fine," he interrupted, his tone reassuring. "You're more than capable. And look, I'll only be a phone call away if you need anything."

You hesitated for a moment, the nerves swirling in your stomach. But deep down, you knew this was a chance you couldn't pass up. Lee believed in you and it was inevitable at one point.

"Okay," you finally said, taking a deep breath. "Sure."

Lee's face broke into a wide grin. "Good. I'll let the gaffer know and I'll make sure everything's arranged for you."

You nodded, watching as he left. The thrill of the weekend was tempered by the gnawing anxiety that you weren't ready, that you were diving headfirst into something you couldn't fully control. Sure, some of the boys had warmed up to you but others were still keeping you at arm's length.

You scoffed to yourself, more like just the one. You were walking a fine line with him and the last thing you wanted was to make things worse. In the heat of the moment, a sentence, an expression, a word could tick someone off.

You couldn't continue your train of thoughts, the folder staring up at you, waiting to be opened. With a steadying breath, you took a seat at your desk again and finally opened it, beginning to read through the reports.

...

The squad and staff gathered at the training ground, the usual pre-match energy heightened by the knowledge that today’s destination was Old Trafford.

You stood off to the side, watching the players mill around as they waited for the coaches to arrive, the hum of conversation and laughter blending with the distant noise of fans outside the gates.

You were trying to keep your own nerves in check, running through mental notes on the players, when Curtis sauntered over, a relaxed smile on his face.

“Bit of a madhouse out there." He said, nodding toward the entrance where the sound of chanting fans was growing louder.

“Just a bit,” you replied with a smile, honestly grateful for the distraction.

He chuckled, giving you a once-over. “You look a little tense. First time heading into enemy territory got you rattled?”

You gave him a mock glare, though the truth behind his teasing made you sigh. “Maybe a little. It’s just.. a lot. Big game, and I’m still getting used to being around everyone, let alone on a match day.”

Curtis leaned against the wall beside you, his expression softening. “I get it. But you’ve been solid with us. We’re glad you’re here, even if some of us” - he raised an eyebrow - “aren’t great at showing it.”

You smirked, knowing exactly who he was referring to.

“Trent?”

He grinned. “Nah, Wataru." You nudged his shoulder with your hand, and Curtis pushed himself off of the wall. His attention was directed back to the team as Arne brought everyone together.

"You're gonna smash it, see you in Manny." He flashed you a smile before jogging back over.

You adjusted your backpack currently slung over your shoulder, glancing up but accidentally catching Trent's eye across the large entryway.

He was standing a little apart from the others, his posture relaxed but with an air of deliberate composure. His hands were casually tucked into his pockets, and his usual stoic expression was softened by a hint of curiosity.

His gaze lingered on you longer than usual, more intent and thoughtful.

You offered him a shy smile, unsure of what to expect in return. Almost immediately, his eyes darted away, his expression tightening as he turned his attention back to the team.

A tinge of disappointment settled in your chest, but you didn’t have time to linger on it as the coach pulled into the parking space out front.

“You’ve got this. You’ve got this,” you whispered to yourself, as if it were a mantra, following the backroom staff out of the training ground.

…

The first half had been tightly contested, with neither team managing to score, leaving the game deadlocked at 0-0.

The only real highlight was Trent’s free kick from just outside the box - a powerful shot that flew high, curling away from the goal before soaring over the bar. The away fans held their breath in anticipation, only to exhale in disappointment as the ball missed its mark.

From the sidelines, you watched as Trent’s frustration grew more evident, his usual composure giving way to visible agitation.

Each missed opportunity seemed to fuel his irritation, and it was clear his emotions were beginning to take over.

You sighed as the referee jogged over after a hard tackle. The yellow card was raised high, and Trent’s reaction was a sharp scoff as he walked away, shooting a disdainful side-eye at the player he had just fouled.

The rival fans seized the moment, erupting in cheers and taunts that grew louder and more fervent.

Old Trafford lit up as the referees became hyper-aware of Trent, ready to penalise any further outbursts. Arne’s nervousness was palpable, and the backroom staff were on their feet, counting down to the halfway mark.

Trent was no longer just reacting to the game; he was actively seeking confrontations with the Man United players. His tackles were sharper, his verbal exchanges more heated.

The tension was building to a breaking point, but the halftime whistle blew just in time, bringing a collective sigh of relief from every member of Liverpool’s staff, whether at the training ground or in the stadium.

As you left your seat to head down the tunnel, Trent’s shoulder brushed against yours, his head lowered and skin glistening with sweat.

You noticed Arne watching him closely, his face a mask of concentration and concern, fully aware of how vital Trent was to the team’s strategy - and how disastrous a second yellow card could be.

...

As the halftime break drew to a near close, the tension in the dressing room was palpable. The players sat on the benches, catching their breath and nursing the aches of the first half.

Arne stood at the front, his arms crossed as he delivered his instructions, his tone firm but calm. You could see the focus in their eyes, the determination to turn the game around in the second half.

Just as he'd finished his tactical breakdown, he turned to you, walking over.

"I want you to say a few words," he said, his voice low.

"About?" You asked quietly, unaware of the boys' wandering eyes glancing between the two of you.

"Keeping their heads in the game. Any insights that might help them stay focused and.. you know, ease off the aggression."

You swallowed, nodding. "Yeah, okay."

The players' attention turned to you as you moved to the centre of the room, a mix of curiosity and expectation in their gazes. It was almost comical - this was the first time many of them were hearing you speak in a professional setting.

You cleared your throat, giving a quick glance to the clock hung on the wall.

You took a deep breath and began. “I know we don’t have much time, so I’ll be brief. We need to ease off on the aggressiveness." Trent, who had been staring at the floor, lifted his head slightly, his eyes now locked on you.

"We’re here to play our best football, to get the result we want and then move on. Allowing anger is only gonna distract you and hurt our performance. When you feel it bubbling up, just walk away and refocus yourself." You made an effort to connect with each player as you spoke, though deep down, you hoped your words would resonate with one in particular.

"Focus on what you can control - your passing, your tackles, your game.” A smirk tugged at Trent's lips before his head dipped again.

You scanned the room, noticing nods of understanding. “If you see a teammate getting heated, help them out."

Another breath, "push them away from the fight, back off, and concentrate on our tactics, not on the referee’s decisions or the United players. Don’t sulk on what went wrong. Learn from it and move on, yeah?"

Arne gave you a nod of appreciation as you wrapped up your little speech. "Alright, let’s make this second half count," you finished, your voice carrying a tinge of determination.

Virgil clapped twice, rallying the team as they stood and prepared to exit the dressing room. “Let’s go!” As they began filing out, you moved to the side to let them pass.

Trent was among the last to leave.

"Write me up next time," he muttered as he walked by, leaning in just enough for you to hear.

Your eyes involuntarily dropped to his lips before darting back up to meet his gaze. Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly composed yourself and responded.

"It was meant for everyone." You lied through your teeth.

He hummed in response, a subtle hint of amusement in his voice. "Sure," he said, not even glancing back as he walked out, leaving you with the undeniable sense that he knew exactly who your speech had been aimed at.

...

In the second half, Trent seemed lighter on his feet, more focused on the tactical aspects of the game and less caught up in the aggression that had marked his earlier play.

Liverpool had eventually secured a hard-fought 0-1 victory, with Salah scoring the winner from a beautifully timed assist by Trent. The away crowds erupted as the ball hit the back of the net, and the energy from that moment carried through until the final whistle.

As you watched him on the pitch, his frustration giving way to calm determination, you couldn’t help but wonder if your halftime words had played a part in that change.

Even a small part, that was more than enough to make you feel like you were on the right track.

The journey back to the training ground was a short one, the adrenaline from the win still buzzing among the team.

But by the time you arrived, the place had already started to empty out, with most of the team and staff having headed home to celebrate or rest.

The win had been sweet, but the quietness that greeted you at the training ground felt like a peaceful end to a very intense day.

You hadn’t intended to stay at the training ground as late as you did after returning, but with Kaia staying over at a friend’s house and the stack of unwritten reports waiting for your attention, you found yourself at your desk again.

The evening had unfolded into an unexpected work spell as you prepared for the upcoming sessions and tackled the never-ending paperwork.

The soft glow from your new office lamp created a cozy pool of light, the only sounds in the quiet room being the occasional rustle of papers and the gentle hum of the air conditioning.

Starting to nurse a headache, you rubbed your eyes carefully as to not smudge your makeup.

The words of practising what you preached echoed in your mind, working for hours on end without a break was hardly the advice you’d give to anybody.

So, you eventually pushed away from your desk and decided to step outside your office for a walk.

The halls were quiet and mostly vacant as you strolled, letting your mind drift and find a moment of peace.

You made your way to the large glass windows that stretched across both the first and second floors, providing a panoramic view of the training grounds below.

The evening sky was transitioning into deep blues, with the last hints of daylight fading.

Yet your gaze was drawn to a solitary figure on the pitch, illuminated by the few remaining lights.

It was him.

Even from this distance, his form was unmistakable as he set up a line of balls and readied himself for another round of free kicks. Instantly, you were reminded of earlier - his powerful shot that had soared over the bar.

Seeing him out there, still working hard, your shoulders slumped in realisation.

The scene was almost surreal, marked by the quiet dedication of a player refusing to call it a day.

You stood there in complete silence, taking in the sight as if it were a scene from a film - each deliberate movement and focused effort holding your rapt attention.

It was a side of him you hadn’t seen before. Alone and immersed in his own world, completely absorbed in his craft without a care for the outside distractions.

Deciding to join him, you headed out of the building and towards the pitch. The evening air was crisp, with a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of nearby trees.

You crossed your arms over your chest, maintaining a respectful distance as you approached. You hoped your presence would neither startle him nor prompt him to leave.

"Mind if I watch?" You asked, keeping your tone light and casual.

Trent glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turned back to the pitch. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but no trace of annoyance.

"Suit yourself, psychologist," he replied, his voice steady. You nodded - guess that was good enough for you.

You watched as he rolled the first ball to his feet, his focus razor-sharp as he stopped it and took a few steps back.

The ball sailed through the air, curving beautifully into the top corner of the net. You couldn’t help but be impressed.

"That was perfect," you said, genuinely admiring his skill.

Trent shrugged, wiping sweat from his brow. "Just another shot."

"Give yourself more credit than that. It’s not easy," you countered. "I admire the dedication."

He glanced back at you. “Guess you’d know.”

“Sorry?” You asked, slightly confused.

Another shot.

“The picture in your office. You played once,” he remarked, a hint of a challenge in his tone.

You found yourself wondering when he had been in your office to notice the picture, then it clicked. He'd helped you assemble the cabinet where you later placed it.

He must've spotted it in one of the boxes.

You watched as he set up another ball, and somehow, in a way that only Trent could manage, that shot was even better than the last.

You scoffed lightly, dismissing the comparison. “Nowhere near your level, obviously. But you’re right, I guess I can imagine the passion. The pressure.”

You hoped your words were reaching him, echoing the sentiments he'd talked about in so many of his interviews.

He breathed out slowly. "So why psychology?" He asked, bending over to position the next ball.

"Because mental strength is just as important as physical ability," you explained. "I've seen talented players crumble under pressure, and others rise above it. The difference often comes down to how well they manage their minds."

Trent didn’t respond immediately. He set up another shot, this time, it hit the post with a loud thud.

Frustrated, he sighed.

You picked up the ball as it bounced near you, letting it roll between your hands before walking over to him. Once there, you dropped it to the ground, letting it settle by the side of your foot.

When he looked at you, his gaze was softer than you’d ever seen it.

You felt a flutter in your chest, the kind that made your stomach dip slightly. Your fingers curled into your palms, a subconscious effort to ground yourself as the moment stretched on.

“I know I’m just a stranger,” you began gently, your tone careful and steady.

“But I’m not here to push you and you don’t have to share anything with me. I just want you to know that if you ever feel like talking, we can - no titles, just two people who might understand each other.”

You added with a slight smile. “You’ll never know unless you give it a shot.”

For a moment, he seemed to consider something. You would’ve traded anything in to know what was going through his mind at that moment.

But he shook his head, glancing out over the pitch. “I’m good for now.”

“Okay,” you replied, giving the ball a gentle nudge, just enough to pass it to him. With a nod, you stepped back and turned towards the building, heading inside.

Before entering, you turned around, surprised to find him already watching you. “Thanks for hearing me out, yeah?”

You offered him a final smile before disappearing inside.

Trent’s gaze lingered on your retreating figure for a moment longer before he returned to his practice, a slight shift in his expression as he continued his routine.

...

Part 6

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

Taglist: @trentwife @bluebreadenthusiast @julovesurmom @blubsberries @remmysthings @heyjudeb @keepitabuckxx @vivi-grace @hoddystark @hiireadstuff @trentione @missusstark @iamasimpingh0e @xxxstormyninixxx @lolawwww22 @myloveisforbellingham @purpleniight @bffrwme @mss-nthng @miniemonie2001 @severebelearthquake @fireofsoul5 @greasywall @livelovepasta @bigdikzaddy

[roseykat]

KINKTOBER DAY 1

Title: Same coin, different faces

PAIRING: Bang Chan x Reader

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: Despite not being together with Chan anymore, you somehow end up in the back of his car...fogging up the windows.

TAGS: pre-established breakup trope, swearing, a dash of angst but also a hint of resolve, mentions of alcohol (neither the reader nor Chan is drunk), a bit of manhandling by both parties, oral sex (reader receiving), car sex, unprotected, sort of hate/rough sex. 

MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER LIST

(This is currently unedited but I will be proofing it later on)

It wasn’t as fun as you had hoped it to be, a party that is. Given it was the end of the semester, people usually prefer to go all out - which they did, but you weren’t feeling it. There were far too many people off of their faces, including your entire friend group that you showed up with.

Two of them were playing drinking games in the kitchen, one of them - Minho, who had completely disappeared for the past few hours, and another one who had found himself someone to hook up with. 

In the end, you were on your own for the remainder of the party. After having found a way into the lounge through the masses of people attending and remained on the couch, watching those around you for a while, you decided to get back up and grab a drink. There wasn’t an entire selection to choose from; either warm beer or cheap wine, which you grab from the latter and pour some in a plastic cup to try and fit in with everyone else. 

The briny taste of the wine was enough to make you think that maybe it was time to go home. It wasn’t fun, interesting, nor a good way to spend your time on a Friday night. Before being able to make the decision to leave, you find yourself planted on the ground when your eyes catch onto a familiar figure amongst the people. 

Chan. Your ex-boyfriend - your ex-best friend at that too. 

It was a surprise to see him given that he isn’t really a party goer, but also a surprise to see him in general after the pair of you went through such a tumultuous breakup a month ago. Things just didn’t work out the way they were supposed to which was unfortunate because Chan is one of a kind.

There isn’t anybody like him that exists in this world. He’s gentle, caring, and has a bottomless well of love to give. Now that you’re not together anymore, you know that whoever he ends up with in the future is well taken care of. 

“Hi,” Chan says, walking up to you. 

“Hey,” you respond back, unsure of how to actually talk to him now. “What are you doing here?” 

Chan sighs, looking at the screen of his phone momentarily then turning his attention back to you, “trying to find Minho. I’m here to pick him up, but I can’t find him. Is he here?”

“I haven’t seen him for the past couple of hours,” you answer. “I highly doubt he’s actually here still.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes, “course he’s not.”

“He probably went to Jisung’s at some point,” you add.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” he replies before his eyes peer down at the plastic cup. “Drinking? That’s not like you.” 

“It’s the end of the semester,” you say in your own defence. “I was trying to finish off strong.”

“Right. Have you got a ride home then?” 

Your eyes dart beyond Chan to ‘your ride home’ who has probably now consumed half of his body weight in alcohol. Chan catches your gaze, turns around and sees Seungmin throwing back another shot with a couple of strangers, presumably his classmates.

Chan sighs once more and faces you again, “don’t tell me he was supposed to sober drive.” 

“He won’t be now,” you respond. 

“Okay well, I can drop you off. Minho’s not replying and he’s probably not here, plus I’m getting tired,” he offers. 

You ponder for a moment. Since Chan had come up to you, you hadn’t felt that sting of pain that a breakup usually induces. Not since the day you both called it quits on the relationship. But that’s only because things were never awkward with him. It’s only until now that you realise how depleting life has been without him. It’s not colourful anymore. 

It’s an issue because you don’t want to be reminded of what you don’t have anymore. Sometimes, the best things can be the worst for us. 

“It’s okay, thank you though,” you decline respectfully. “I might tell the others to get ready to head off.” 

“And who’s going to drive them? You?” He asks with a brow raised then shakes his head with disapproval. “You’ve been drinking.”

“Not that much,” you retort. “I’m not even tipsy, plus I don’t want to leave them behind.”

“Seems like they left you behind,” Chan points out a very good point which you find hard to not be in denial about. 

He takes the plastic cup out of your hand and places it on the nearest surface cluttered with other discarded items. He then returns back to you to gently take hold of your wrist and leads you out of the lounge full of people. 

“Wait-”

“I’m not letting you drive under the influence, end of story,” he decides. 

With that matter in hand, you’re quickly reminded that Chan has always had a strong head on his shoulders and his morals are very clear cut. He held reasonably strong opinions on doing unnecessarily dangerous things, particularly when it comes to you. It happened to be one of the poisonous factors that pierced the final dagger into the relationship. 

The cold air then hits you when you both make it out into the front yard. 

“I can walk thank you,” you say to Chan who forgets that he’s still holding your wrist. He looks down at his hand and releases. 

“Sorry,” he apologises. “Car’s this way.”

He leads you once more just across the street to the vehicle while you think about the fact that you never actually agreed you were going to accept his offer to take you home. In saying that, there was no other alternative other than walking which Chan wouldn’t have put up with anyway. 

The pair of you hop in his car, finally able to catch a break from the blaring music that was blasting throughout the house. After both of your seatbelts are on, Chan starts the car and drives away down the street. 

It’s not long until silence falls quickly. Things had never been this terribly awkward between you both, but there had been pockets of quietness which used to be comfortable to sit in. Now you can see that it’s not as nice. 

“So what have you been up to these days?” Chan asks out of the blue, breaking that silence. 

“Nothing interesting I guess,” you answer blandly. “Just studies and that’s it.” 

He nods, “how’s that going so far?”

“Fine, I suppose.”

Chan lets out a small huff, “you know, it’s still okay for us to talk right? We don’t need to be so hostile.”

The glow of your phone from your lap catches your attention away from his comment. You blink down at the screen and read a text from Felix. 

Lix: ‘Saw you leave with Chan. Please tell me you’re both back on.’ 

You roll your eyes. You love Felix, but sometimes he can be too optimistic. There wasn’t any way you and Chan were going to find your way back to each other. If anything, it wouldn’t be the same anymore. 

“I wasn’t being hostile, plus there’s not much to my answer anyway unless you want me to lie?” You respond back.

“No, I don’t want you to lie,” Chan adjusts his tight grip on the steering wheel. “But you speaking just proves my point on why we shouldn’t act like that.” 

You turn your head, shooting him a well-deserved glare. This isn’t usually how Chan acts. He never says backhanded things as such even though he can be relatively blunt. Whatever subtle malice was behind his words obviously came from the same place that helped the relationship tear apart. 

“This is why we never worked out because you always had to have some degree of control,” you scoff, ignoring the fact that you’ve now doused the flicker of the argument with petrol.

“I was only doing what I though was safest for you,” Chan argues back strongly. “It was never about having any type of control, it was because you couldn’t see what the consequences were.” 

“Then why couldn’t you have let me figure it out for myself? How else am I supposed to learn, when you’re not here anymore?” 

“You, driving drunk isn’t something that you just learn not to do. You don’t do it, full stop. Anyone with common sense knows that,” Chan bites back. 

“I’m not even talking about that! When have I ever driven drunk? Now you’re just fucking reaching for things! All I’m saying is that it didn’t matter how much time I spent with you, I never got to be my own person. It was like I was turning into another ‘you’.”

Chan shrugs, “in comparison to what you can be like sometimes, I honestly don’t think that’s so much of a bad thing.” 

The last nerve inside you, had been struck.

“Stop the car, I’m getting out.” 

“No, we’re nearly at your h-”

“I don’t care Chris, I seriously don’t want to be anywhere near you right now,” you cut him off sharply, not wanting to hear another word come out of his mouth. 

Chan looks over at you, absorbing how painfully angry you look right now and the fact that your hand is on the door handle, ready to bolt as soon as he pulls over. It was fairly obvious because once he did, you were out of the vehicle before he could say anything more. But as fast as you are out the door, Chan is already on the other side to meet you. 

“Don’t go home angry,” he says urgently. 

You shoot him a dirty look, thinking who the hell is he to tell you what to do, “or what?”

“Well can we at least talk then?” He questions, trying to grasp onto some common ground here. 

With as much force as you can muster, your arms come up to shove Chan by the chest, “fuck you.”

He stumbles back a few steps and is not as nearly as surprised as you are by your own behaviour. Never has anyone elicited as much of a reaction from you until now. The shock has you to the point where you can barely assemble an apology to Chan. Even so when he comes back forward, grabbing you by the sides of your arms, and shoving you right back against his own car. 

Before either of you say another word, his mouth crashes straight against yours. His swift hands are quickly groping and roaming in every place around your body that he can reach while you submit to his moves. You’ve forgotten how electrifying Chan can be at times when it comes to intimacy, that you really start to feel it when he slides his knee in between your thighs. 

You gasp against his lips, yelping almost when his hands reach behind you to squeeze your ass and to try to bring your body as impossibly close to his as he can. For a split second, you break away to consolidate what is happening. Chan remains latched onto you, his mouth now working its way to your jaw and down to your throat, sucking and biting into your skin. 

Neither of you care about whether or not he’s going to mark you up. All you care about at this point in time, is the hope that he’s going to fuck you. 

“The door…open the door,” you mumble to him, even though you’re trying to find the handle yourself. 

Even with the unshakeable frame of mind that he’s in right now, Chan listens to you. He pulls you forward with him so that he can yank the backdoor open. You hop onto the seat, pushing yourself backwards to the other side of the car to create room for him to join you. But Chan had his own idea planted already. 

He grabs you by the ankles and pulls you right back to the edge of the seat closest to him. His hands take pride in reaching underneath your skirt and tearing your underwear down your legs. 

He doesn’t even get the opportunity to fully take them off as they dangle on one leg. In saying that, it doesn’t take you very long to click onto what he wants to do. So you help him by doing your best to hike your skirt further up your thighs. Chan decides to take a few seconds to appreciate being able to relive this moment once more by using his thumb to swipe over your wet slit, collecting your juices only to bring it up to his mouth and suck it right off. 

“Fucking missed this,” he speaks for the first time in about five minutes before lifting both of your legs and separating them for his head to slot in perfectly between. 

The fan of his hot breath washes over your skin, already making your squirm forward towards his mouth. It’s been a long time since someone had touched you and Chan could tell. He knows how needy you can be, but not when you’re like this. Not when you’re straining to reach for the back of his head to pull him closer to your pussy. Not when you’re already moaning when he’s barely touched you.

Not when you’re wetter than what he usually thinks you are.

“Y-Yes…right there,” you sigh out and lie back down, waiting eagerly. 

One of your hands threads through his dark hair and tugs every time he sucks on your clit. Shivers of pleasure reverberate throughout your body, already making your legs tremble on his shoulders. If anyone were to drive past, you know you and Chan would get done for public indecency. Except that devious consequence became an elicit far away thought drowned out by your own moans the more Chan continued to eat you out. 

The best thing about it is that he’s not going easy on you. He’s being deceptively rough by digging his nails into your thighs and showing zero remorse when he relentlessly licks over that same sweet spot. The more work he puts into trying to make you cum, the harder he gets in his pants, straining at this point.

“P-Please Chan, hurry,” you cry out, trying to sit up and slide down further into his mouth. “Need to cum, please.”

When your begging and moaning become increasingly louder and more frequent, Chan knows you’re on the cusp of an orgasm. However, as much as he used to enjoy you cumming on his face, the idea of you cumming on his cock is just as good, if not better. So just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Chan pulls back. 

You blink in amongst the haziness of what was about to be a mind shattering orgasm to see Chan who’s head had lifted up from in between your legs. His mouth and chin were covered in your juices, and is completely unashamed about it. 

“You can just fucking wait,” he snaps and begins to adjust your legs so that he makes sure they cage his body at his sides, that way he can grab onto your thighs and fuck you hard and steady. 

Although you can barely see, you hear the zipper to his pants open before he takes out his cock, hard and ready to put it to use on you. You bite down on your bottom lip when Chan uses his tip to tease your entrance. He pushes his hips forward, enough to make his cock slide up and in between your pussy. 

Chan’s shaky hand manages to get a proper hold around his dick, aligning it with your wet hole, and slowly pushes in as the heat begins to encapsulate around his length. The top half of his body nearly falters forward if it weren’t for his hips that thrust forward first. 

“Chris…” you mutter in an aspirated voice, feeling the fullness of his cock stretch you out.  

There is no forewarning for the strength he has behind each buck of his hips. It takes you back to times before during your relationship and how deliciously memorable the sex always was. Chan’s main priority was to always make you cum first and regardless of his own needs and pleasure. Whether you misbehaved or were being an outright undeserving brat in bed, even then he would still let you cum. That’s how much he loved you. 

“Nobody can ever fuck you the way I do,” Chan grits his teeth, his eyes watching his cock disappear inside of you each time he rams forward, hard and fast. 

Every second that goes by, you’re grappling more and more onto your last threads of sanity. It’s hard to keep up and absorb Chris’s stamina and pace - a relentless and unapologetic pace that hits the same spot inside you over and over again until that build up of pleasure starts spreading around your lower abdomen. 

“Make me feel…so good,” you mumble incoherently. “Gonna make me cum.” 

It’s been a long time since Chan has heard you say those words - hell, even heard you moan at the very least. It’s enough to keep his pace steady but he’s very wary of the fact that he himself is already near the edge of an orgasm too. Nonetheless, he’s determined to get you there first once more. 

So Chan lets go of one of your legs at his side so that he can use his thumb to now rub fast circles over your clit. Your hands grip at the hem of your skirt, back arching as you start submitting to the crest of intense pleasure Chan has built up for you. Then within seconds, Chan has you cumming hard around his cock, shuddering, and straining his name out of your mouth as it rings throughout his car. 

“Fuck, baby…” he groans as his head tips back before he starts spilling white inside of you. 

His hips stutter finally, gently slowing down to a leisurely pace while he drowns in the afterglow from one of the most transcendent orgasms he’s ever had. He gives you both time to come down before he carefully slides out of you. It takes you a while to fully fathom what just happened, but you allow yourself to think about it. Whatever it is, it’s not regret. There’s a longing feeling there, a borderline sense of relief. 

Once Chan is decent, he helps you slide your underwear back on even though you’re both fully aware of the fact that he just came inside you. It’s not like either of you were prepared for this to happen. In saying that, Chan gently takes hold of both your hands and gets you to sit up.

“You okay?” he questions, using his finger to hook some of your messed hair out of your face. 

You nod, “yes. You?” 

“I’ve been worse,” he answers, making you smile. “I’m really sorry for what I said earlier.” 

You shake your head, “I’m sorry as well for being so stubborn. I figured that the more hostile I am towards you, the more I push myself away so that I don’t have to deal with any feelings from before.” 

Chan completely gets it, “I know. I thought I could do the same, but it seems that I’m too nice.”

You roll your eyes, “you’ve had your moments.” 

“I definitely have,” he replies. “Anyway, we should go in case anybody just saw that.” 

A bashful sense of embarrassment washes over you. It’s been minutes before you realised that you just fucked your ex. But even so, it doesn’t really feel that way. It’s just Chan, someone who you still have a lot of love for. 

“You can stay at mine, it’s late,” you suggest to him. 

Chan smiles softly, “as if I’m going to say no.”

-

A/N: Yes, I am a day late already to Kinktober - I just realised bc my dumb ass was trying to figure out time zones and when would be the best time to upload for people bc I’m quite some hours ahead from other countries. So I’ll just stick to my time zone, that way you’ll get my works a few hours earlier x

KINKTOBER TAGLIST: @mal-lunar-28 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @lizzetmv @luneskies 🩷🩷

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 3.5 - Jake POV

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Warnings: This chapter is written in first-person (warning you now so don't come for me later if it bothers you pretty please) Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues.

Note: These Jake POV chapters are not necessary to read to understand or follow with the rest of the story!

Words: 1115 (i told ya it'd be shorter)

The One I Want Masterlist

Jake:

“If she doesn’t end up going for you, send her my way,” Javy whispers so only I can hear. 

Turning sharply, I whack him upside the head. I tell myself it's mostly so Javy stops looking at you the way he is, but I know it’s also a way to release my frustration at realizing my brain is only the slightest bit faster than my instincts. My brain just barely held me back from instinctually snapping ‘mine’ the second you walked into the place and I saw the look on my friend’s face. But thankfully it did. Because you’re not mine. Not really. Not at all. 

You don’t notice the smack, and Nat and Bradley have seen the same interaction enough to know it’s not genuine. Although, this time I can’t fully say that it isn’t. Their eyes find you and you blush under all four pairs; mine included, of course, since I can’t seem to manage to keep them off of you anyway. I don’t try anymore. 

“H-Hi,” you say with a lick of nerves. 

The look on your face screams ‘too much; too many people; too many eyes’, and I would instantly feel like an ass if it weren’t for the fact that when you agreed to meet them, you seemed happy about it. After a month and a half, you were finally willing to learn more about my life, integrate yourself into my world, and I wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass me by. But seeing you now, in the aftermath of putting my excitement above your anxiety, the guilt creeps up on me. 

“It’s good to see you again,” Nat says, carefully wiping away the deer-in-headlights expression off your face. Your shoulders settle and, albeit tentatively, you smile. The same smile I thought I would’ve grown immune to by now, but no. It still kicks my heart into overdrive in a way no other has. 

And that’s the problem. That’s the thing not allowing me to surrender in my efforts to open you up to me. I just want more; crave it; each day contemplate how I can coax new pieces of you to the surface. 

There was a brief period in those first three days when I prayed that what I saw in you was merely a challenge. A beautiful woman who doesn’t want me is rare, as ridiculously vain as it is to say. But it’s the truth. I know the game of cat and mouse well. The playful back and forth that inevitably ends up with the woman in my bed. And damn, did I want to play. But what I had allowed myself to assume was a need to conquer grew into genuine interest. It grew so quickly, in such an all-consuming manner, that I didn’t know what to do with myself. 

I still don’t. 

Instead, I act on impulse, and that usually leaves me doing what I must, asking what I must, to get to know you. At times, successfully. Others, not so much. Never before has the phrase ‘one step forward, two steps back’ applied so heavily to my life. 

You ease yourself into the kitchen and Javy takes it upon himself to give you his name and wrap you up in a hug; muscled arms irritatingly just barely bigger than mine squeezing you tight. It’s returned, though much less enthusiastically. 

When his arms have been around you far too long for my liking, my fingers fist in the back of his shirt and tug until he releases you. 

“I’m Bradley,” my final friend—potentially my new best friend if Javy keeps his shit up—offers with a wave.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you reply.

I feel my lips curve all on their own at the rising confidence in your voice. You entered, took a moment to adjust to the room and the people occupying it, and then found your footing. A familiar adapt-to-survive skill I am slowly learning you possess. 

My friends smile, then look at me. Which is fair, considering the silence filling the room is my fault. I told them not to ask you too many questions. Not to pry into your past. Not to be too curious about your plans while you’re in the area. I left them with nothing and nowhere to go.

“How was your morning,” I ask. 

“Good actually. I got a job.”

I stand a little straighter. “You did?” 

I know I'm coming off a little too eager at that information, but it’s the first indication you’ve given that says you intend to stick around for a while. So far, you’ve not made an effort to find friends, you haven’t bought yourself anything that can’t fit in a backpack, and, until now, hadn’t found a job. It was a developing pattern that kept me in a state of wondering if I’ll wake one morning to find you gone. But if you got yourself a job then that has to be a good sign of things to come. 

You nod. “It’s not much. Just cashier at the gift shop across from the beach, but at least I’ll be able to start paying you for last month's rent.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. You don’t have to pay me,” I say. Because it’s true. Having you around, knowing I come home to someone every day, is enough. And the reality of it is, I don’t need the money. 

With a raised brow, Nat smirks, and I wonder if it’s too obvious. If I’m too obvious. 

“I’m paying you, Jake,” you state with an edge of harshness that has ‘two steps back’ repeating in my brain. And before I can think to argue with you, you’ve muttered something about taking a shower and have disappeared into your room. 

When I look back to the small group at the side, my brows dip in irritation. Nat is still smirking. Bradley is shaking his head. And Javy’s lips are pinched tight to hold in a laugh threatening to burst. 

I sigh as I lean my weight against the countertop of the kitchen island. “What?” 

“‘Oh, don’t worry. You don’t have to pay me,’” Bradley mocks in a voice much higher pitched than mine. 

“You’re making fun of me for being nice?”

“No, No,” he corrects, glancing between Nat and Javy before once again meeting the glare in my eyes. “It’s just interesting. It was only two months ago that you were expecting Brit to pay rent and she had your dick inside of her a few times a week. She never even got a discount, but this chick lives here for nothing.”

A beat passes. 

Then Javy’s laugh finally breaks free. 

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @rosiahills22 @oliviah-25 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace

[phoward89]

Based on this ask for my moot @swiftieblyth

“Darling, are you feeling unwell again?” Your husband, President Coriolanus Snow of Panem, asked you as he entered the residential wing of the Presidential Palace only to see you sprawled out on the sofa with a cold compress on your head in an attempt to ease your migraine. A migraine that's so bad that your body's shaking in pain and all of the drapes are drawn, leaving you in the dark to wallow in your misery.

“No.” You moan out in pain. “I’ve been suffering with a terrible migraine all day, Coryo.”

“My darling rose, perhaps we should call the doctor?” Coriolanus suggested while making his way over to your side.

“I don't need a doctor, Coryo. It's just a migraine.” You waved off your husband's concern as he kneels next to you. Truthfully, you hurt so bad that you just want to cry. But it's just a headache, all a doctor's going to do is prescribe headache and migraine medications and you've already got those in the medicine cabinet. Too bad you're too nauseous to take them tho.

“This isn't just a migraine. You've been getting frequent headaches too often lately. Not to mention your lack of appetite and nausea.”

“I'm fine, Coryo.” You stubbornly told your husband.

“You're not fine, my love. Don't even lie to me and say you are.”

“I know, Coryo.” You sigh defeatedly. Your husband always knows when you're lying. What is he, a human lie detector?

“This is concerning me. Really it is and you know I don't frighten that easily.” The President told you, gently stroking your arm up and down in a soothing manner.

“I know, it concerns me too," You honestly admit to the platinum blonde who's your other half in life. "but I already have migraine and headache medications; they don't work.”

“You have to take them for them to work, darling.” Scolded your husband.

“Okay, when I'm not too nauseous from the headaches and take them they don't really help.”

“That's why we need to get you to a doctor.”

“I know, but I don't want to see the doctor only for him to tell me what I already know- that I have migraines.”

Coriolanus loves you, he truly does, but sometimes you can be so stubborn. He'd feel better if you'd just agree to see the doctor, but you won't.

Your claim that it's just migraines is bullshit; both you and your husband know it too. You're been experiencing chronic fatigue, a tiny bit of brain fog, and tingling in your hands that makes you shake them out to get feeling back sometimes.

Those symptoms on top of the frequent headaches, nausea, and loss of appetite has Coriolanus worried. Of course you're concerned too, but your husband's downright scared to death. But maybe that's because he's been looking up things and playing Dr. Panoogle when it comes to your symptoms.

But President Snow’s read so many scary things while playing Dr. Panoogle that he's desperate to get you to a doctor. He can't have you dying on him from some disease or illness.

Coriolanus let out an exasperated sigh. “If your symptoms consist or worsen, I'm taking you to the doctor. Understood?”

“Understood.” You reply, causing your husband to gently kiss your temple before scooping you up and bringing you to your large bedroom for some proper rest in your king sized bed.

A few days later your health took a turn for the worse. Your headache was gone, but you were feeling fatigued. More than usual. Also you were having some problems with your motor skills. You're, for a lack of a better word, clumsy and stumbling over your own feet.

You're scared, but you don't want to bother your husband. Coryo's the President and he's been busier than usual lately since the games are a month and a half away. You know if you call him or send a maid to get him then he'll scrap all of his duties to tend to you. As much as you want your doting husband by your side, he's the President of Panem and has a duty to the country. Plus, he's the youngest president that's ever been elected, so if he puts off his duties it'll make him look like a slacker and your husband's anything but that.

So, you decide to deal with feeling poorly yourself. But then you suddenly feel dizzy when you rise from the sofa in order to go to the bathroom. You feel as if the room's spinning, as if you can see the air dancing around the floor.

And suddenly you faint; hitting the floor with a loud thud. A loud thud that, unfortunately, none of the staff heard.

Coryo's exhausted when he makes his way down the hall, towards the residential wing of the Presidential Palace. He can't wait to get home to you, his darling wife. You've been by his side since college, always supporting his dreams and goals. You always manage to bring a smile to his face when he's had a bad day. You also calm the rage coursing through him whenever he's pissed off about something work related.

Just being around you's enough to calm him, bring fresh air to his dark soul. The nation of Panem should be glad that you're the First Lady. If Coriolanus was married to anyone else, well…there would be a ton more executions and poisonings then what have occured.

That's for sure.

Coriolanus can't wait to see you, to have you in his arms or to be held in yours (either works for him), but when he enters the living room of your living quarters his blood freezes in his veins.

The sight of you passed on the floor is like a vice around his heart. You're motionless and he's terrified that he's going to lose you. Quickly, he rushed over to you and pulled you into his arms. “Please, baby, wake up. Open your eyes for me, darling.” Coriolanus begs, gently patting your cheek in an attempt to rouse you, as his icy eyes shine with fear.

Your eyelashes flutter as you begin to weakly open your eyes. “Coryo?” You ask, trying to make the shape of your husband out since your vision’s a bit spotty.

“I'm here, darling.” Coryo assured you. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he tells you, “I'm taking you to the doctor, Y/N. You've been passed out for only gods know how long; you're getting checked out.’

“Okay.” You relent, knowing that you won't win against your husband on this. He told you before that if your health declines he's making you see the doctor.

The doctor examined you, listened to your list of symptoms, and ran some tests on you. Once the results were in, the doctor walked into your examination room with a few papers in hand.

Coming to a stop in front of the table you're sitting on, the doctor looks between you and President Snow before revealing, “First Lady Snow, I've come to the conclusion that you have both high cholesterol and an iron deficiency.”

“Isn't she a bit young for that?” Coriolanus asked in disbelief. How could you have those medical issues? Didn't people Grandma'am’s age have those kinds of issues?

“Yes, President Snow, the First Lady is young, but it seems that her medical issues with high cholesterol and iron deficiency is a genetic one.” The doctor told your husband before looking over at you. “Do your parents or siblings have any of these issues?”

“No.” You shake your head. “My mother and older brother don't have any problems.”

“Her father died in the war, during the Dark Days alongside mine.” Your husband told the doctor before the middle-aged man could even ask about your dad.

The doctor nodded, only to hand you a script and say, “That's a prescription for a statin. It's a medication to control your cholesterol.” He gave you another piece of paper that had some supplements written on it. “Those are over the counters you can buy for your iron deficiency. They're easily found in the vitamin aisle of the pharmacy.”

Looking between you and your husband, the doctor sighed. “Now, this next part might be a bit difficult since it concerns diet. I understand that you're the First Family of Panem, the equivalent of royalty in the eyes of the old world, but there's quite a few diet restrictions the First Lady has now because of her condition.” Handing some papers about foods you could eat, couldn't eat, and diet plans to your husband l, the doctor concluded his thoughts on the matter with, “I understand that you hold a lot of galas and dinner parties and I won't tell you what to serve, just that the First Lady doesn't eat anything she's not supposed to unless you want her having another episode due to out of order levels of cholesterol.”

“Don't worry, Dr. Murphy, she'll strictly adhere to whatever's in this diet plan.” Coriolanus assured your doctor, holding the papers in his hand up slightly. “Nothing she's not allowed to have will enter the Presidential Palace.”

Well, it's rare, but your medication gave you an allergic reaction. Yea…it gave you a bad cause of hives, which you had to get some antihistamines for. So, you couldn't take the cholesterol medication.

Your husband was livid that the statin gave you hives. He even threatened to have the doctor's head on a silver platter for malpractice, but you managed to calm him down enough not to kill poor Dr. Murphy. That doctor should be thanking his lucky stars that you have such a strong hold on your deranged husband, President Coriolanus Snow, otherwise he'd be pushing up daisies right now.

Since the cholesterol medication is off the table, you have to manage it all on your own with a strict diet. A diet that Coryo's also eating, despite the fact that he's as healthy as a horse.

It means a lot to you that your husband's supporting your journey to get healthier. That he eats the same foods as you and won't let anything you can't have come into your home. Not many husbands are so devoted, but yours is.

But, that also means that dinner parties have a strict menu now to. Because President Snow's making everyone-

EVERY-FUCKING-ONE

that enters the Presidential Palace for a gala or dinner party eat your family's special diet.

Mhm…

He's not having you get sick on his watch by accidentally eating one of your ‘bad’ foods that can make your cholesterol skyrocket.

Coriolanus needs you to get healthy so that you can start thinking about having a baby. Well, you've been together for so many years now, it's the only logical step. But before that can happen he wants to make sure that your cholesterol and iron levels are at a good reading.

He's so supportive and you're so grateful for him.

“Thank you, Coryo, for doing this diet with me and for just being such a good husband while I've been dealing with my health issues.” You tell your husband one night during dinner.

Your husband always returns to the residential wing of the Presidential Palace for mealtimes now. He feels it's his duty to make sure you're eating healthy and the only way to do that is to share meals with you all the time.

Coryo pauses in stabbing his vegetables with a fork, only to tell you, “My darling rose, you don't have to thank me for wanting you well. For wanting nothing but the best for my love.”

“I know, but not all husbands are like you and I just wanted you to know that I'm grateful for everything.”

Reaching across the table to grab your hand, the president smiles that special smile he only reserves for you. “You're everything to me. Made me love again when I never thought I'd be able to.” Coryo's icy blue eyes were twinkling as he admitted, “I'm completely lost without you, my love. I'll always be by your side to support you because I need you to be healthy and at your best.”

Your husband's words really touched your heart. To the public your husband's a cold, stoic, firm leader. But to you he lets down his guard, shows you a tender side. He's also a very devoted man to have as a life partner.

Coryo's been by your side during all of your hard times. Like during the times I'm University that you had some very bad spats and falling outs with some of your friends via social media. He's your biggest supporter, but hearing that he needs you by his side because you make him a better man just makes you swoon.

So, it seems that you both need each other. Perhaps that's why your love works so well. You make his heart beat and prevent it from rotting while he makes sure that you're healthy, both mentally and physically.

And right now you might be a little unwell, but you'll get better. With Coryo's love and support you'll be better in no time.

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[iznyangwoni]

EASY TO LOVE | chapter twelve !

warnings: smut! mdni

After five days of not attending a single class, you finally found the courage to get out of your room. You did indeed fuck things up last friday and that ended up with your phone being smashed on the floor and not being able to leave the house for three days.

If it werent for your mother getting worried about you not replying to her text you would’ve probably stayed there another full week. But now everything was fine, kind of. You were staying at your mom’s house, you had just bought a new phone and Wonyoung and Moka were being sure to stay next to you at all times.

You can feel curious eyes on you as yoh walk in the hallway, and you cant tell if its because you have something on your face or because you’re repeating an outfit.

“Y/n.” You hear Jungwon call you, you turn around. He must’ve just finished practice since he’s still wearing some sweats and his hair and stuck on his forehead.

You dont even have time to say anything as he immediately takes your wrist, taking you with him to the locker room. Thankfully each person of the dance class has a personal locker room, so there’s no fear of anyone getting in. He locks the door and looks at you, you’ve never seen him so mad. “Where have you been?”

“Why do you care?” “Y/n.” You sigh, you’ve thought a lot about what to do with him. You obviously dont feel like playing anymore, so many things ruined this game of yours by now that if Jungwon were someone else you would’ve already let him go. But thats the fact, you cant let Jungwon go. You enjoy his presence and god, the way he kisses you…

“Jungwon i dont owe you any explanation, now can i go to class?” You get closer to the door but Jungwon stops you, his hand going through his hair. “No. Y/n do you understand that i havent heard from you for almost a week? You cant yell at me to not talk to you or touch you and then vanish!”

“You’re getting attached.” You cant even look at him in the eyes, you’re tired of all of this and wish you never spoke to him that day months ago. You need to push him away before this turn out badly. “Dont tell me you arent.” He gets closer to you, his fingers under your chin so you can look at him. “You missed me, didn’t you?” He asks and you chuckle sarcastically at that.

Missed him? You might have missed the way he touches you, but you didn’t miss him as a person. Its not so easy for you to just get attached, especially after what you found out. “You’re only going to bring me even more troubles.” as you say that Jungwon’s hands slowly start to wonder on your body, but you still look at him in the same cold way.

“I thought that was the exciting part.” he gets even closer, his nose brushing with yours before he moves down on your face, giving gentle bites to you. You try not to get distracted, but your heart is already beating so hard its becoming hard to. “You dont know how much i missed your pretty self.” His voice comes out lower than usual, even a bit raspy, it makes your whole body chill.

This is when you realize that he’s not any different from you. You’ve been manipulating and controlling each other this whole time, and now you cant let him go the same way he’s obsessed with you. You close your eyes when he starts biting your neck, his right hand on your thigh.

“Jungwon.. whatever this is… it needs to be over.” But not even you can believe your words, and he’s barely hearing you by the way his hands are slowly going up your thighs. “And what exactly is this, pretty? We’re not dating, we’re barely friends, nor you’ve ever made me touch you properly. We cant stop something that doesn’t exist.”

you feel his lips coming back to your cheek, before he bites your lips. You open your eyes slightly, he’s right after all, theres nothing to stop in the first place. you’re already breathing quite heavily, his hands resting under your skirt. you look at his lips before leaning in, he catches them in a kiss immediately, pushing you back to the door. Your hands on his shoulders meanwhile his grip on your thighs gets stronger. “Good girl. You look so pretty when you listen to me.”

He picks you up, your legs intertwining on his waist, his hands under you ass. He then sits you down on the washer, thank god this school is so rich to afford that. You moan when you feel his teeth sink in your tongue and then bottom lip, one thing about this boy is that he loves to bite. “Tell me if you ever want to stop…” He whispers.

Jungwon slowly goes down, your skirt is short enough that it makes it easier for him to slide his hands under it, his fingers playing with the hem of your underwear. You’re against the idea of doing anything in public, but this is a closed room, with no windows or cameras, you can let yourself relax for now. You feel his bites on your thighs, which makes you giggle a little, he really loves your legs.

Jungwon leaves a couple of marks on the inside of your thighs, your hand on your mouth so that the sounds dont get out too loud. Before you can even register what is really happening, he pulls your panties down and opens your legs completely. Your free hand goes to his hair and he gets up to give you another kiss.

“We dont have time for the full thing..” He says between kisses, his fingers already tracing your opening. Its embarassing how wet you are just from teasing. He then slides his first finger in, making me whine through the kiss, he doesn’t move it immediately, but you can feel his thumb already going to circle your clit. You moan, trying your best to not be too loud, its crazy how he already made you forget what you were talking about.

You bite his shoulder as your head comes to rest on the crook of his neck, he keeps pleasuring you slowly, pumping his finger in and out before sliding in another one. “Fuck.. i can barely fit two in..” You close your eyes, your hands still in his hair meanwhile he kisses your head and cheeks, whispering so much dirty stuff in your ear.

“Jungwon.. am close” He goes faster at your words, wet sounds all over the room, your teeth sinking on his shoulder are most likely going to leave a mark. “Let go pretty, cum on my fingers.” I doesnt take you long before you actually do, his fingers full of your juices. Your legs are still shaking when he puts your panties back on, Jungwon kisses your lips once more before taking a step back.

You take a few seconds to regain your composure, your head still dizzy from what just happened. Jungwon laughs as he sees your red cheeks, finding you very much adorable. “Fucking asshole,” You breathe out, looking at him as he changes his clothes. “I hate how good you are at distracting me.”

He laughs again, shaking his head. You finally find enough balance to get up, Jungwon looks at you, shirt in his hand meanwhile he is wearing none. “Am i distracting you?” “Dickhead.” “You’re gonna run out of insults.” You roll your eyes annoyed, how can he be so damn infuriating and hot at the same time you still dont know.

You wash your face and make yourself presentable again before going towards the door. He looks at you with a smirk on his face, it makes you want to punch him so damn hard. “Call me when you’re feeling stressed, pretty. Looks like it worked taking your mind off of some things.” “Oh fuck off.”

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author’s note hehe today we’re getting two chapters to thank you all for 100 followers!! i didnt even have this account until last week so this is so so crazy to me. Once again thank u all sm for the support <3

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[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Under a Star-Flecked Sky

Author's Note: This was supposed to be some Rhysand x Reader fluff, but the depression brain-rot got the better of me and I wrote some angsty, post-UtM Rhys moments instead (don't worry there is some fluff at the end). My baby just needs a hug, and honestly I think SJM did him dirty by brushing his trauma Under the Mountain under the rug.

Warnings: Mentions of Amarantha, Rhys' Post-UtM Trauma

Summary: You're Rhys' mate, having already been with him before the Mountain, and are navigating Rhys' healing journey as best you can.

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The bed was cold; the realization jarring you from the deep clutches of sleep. Your bed was never cold, not when your mate was in it. Rhysand ran warm, your own personal heater, usually spending the night curled around you, cocooned inside the safety of his wings, but those great wings and the male attached to them were nowhere to be seen. His side of the bed empty, the sheets rumpled, blanket haphazardly clinging to the side of the mattress like he'd flung it off in a hurry, even though you hadn't heard him get up.

You sat up, shivering in the chill coming through the open windows, the satin curtains billowing in the autumn breeze. It would be too cold to leave them open soon, a fact you knew often put your mate on edge, especially after...

You called for him down the bond you shared with your mate, worried. It had been a couple months since Rhys had returned home to Velaris after Amarantha; the nightmares had been constant the first couple of weeks, at one point they had gotten so bad he'd started spending the night at the Moonstone Palace, claiming he had work to do to avoid you and the rest of the Inner Circle from seeing him like that, but with some help from Madja and some other healers in the city he'd been able to get a handle on it. Usually. Some nights were worse than others. You'd tried to be as supportive as possible, even going down to the Library to read up on ways to help. There were calming teas you'd started making for him before bed, the recipe tucked in one of those old books, but you suspected Rhys drank it just to make you feel like you were helping, the cup still half full on the bedside table. You'd drifted off shortly after handing it to him last night.

When there was no answer down the bond, you crawled out of the bed, dragging the blanket with you. The black silk slip you wore did nothing to stave off the cold, you'd worn the birthday gift from Rhys down to its threads over the years he was gone. He'd offered to buy you a new one--multiple in more colors--but you'd refused. It was your favorite, you'd find some magic to keep it held together if you had to. Still, it was the wrong time of the year for it, and you opted to stay warm under the blanket instead of pausing to change into something else as you left the room in search of your mate, still calling for him down the bond.

He gave no answer, his end silent. As silent as it had been for the last 50 years, that great, formidable wall of adamant shielding him from you.

You bit your lip as you checked each room in the house, all empty, save for the one Cassian was snoring in at the end of the Hall. They'd started taking turns sleeping over, keeping an eye on their brother. Azriel had stayed the night before, Mor the night before that. They stole your wine and played old board games until the early hours of the morning, trying to get Rhys' to laugh, or smile at the least. He didn't do a lot of that these days.

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest. He'd been through so much and half the time he'd just shut down and shut you out, unable to explain what had happened. What she had done to him. Most nights you wondered if there was a way to let you into Hell, just so you could kill her a second time. You'd had a long time to think about what you'd do if you ever had the chance to get your hands on her. Not that it mattered in the end, you'd never been able to get into the Mountain. You'd failed him then and it was starting to feel like you were failing him again now as you all but sprinted through the house.

It took longer than you would like to admit to notice that the balcony doors in the living room were open. Rhys left the windows open, never the doors, even if Velaris was the safest place in Prythian, he'd never leave you vulnerable like that, not unless he was nearby.

Tears pricked your eyes, your lower lip bleeding from how hard you'd been biting down on it as you stepped out into the frigid night air. The lounge chairs and tables along the edge were all empty, no glass of Rhys' favorite whiskey in sight.

Your heart thundered in your ears, thoughts racing. Where the hell was he? Had something happened? Was he in danger?

You were about to start calling his name in desperation before a shifting tile on the roof caught your attention. One of the pieces had been knocked loose--a new occurrence because you'd had to replace them after a drunk Cassian had tried to do a back flip off it last week.

Clutching the blanket around your shoulders with one hand, you used the other to pull a chair over to where the corner of the roof hung over the balcony, and carefully climbed up. The townhouse roof was not as steep as the Palace roof, or even the cabin in Illyria, where you and your mate used to sit and talk about all his plans for his city and his people.

That ache in your chest returned tenfold as you spotted your mate, sitting at the highest point of the roof, knees to his chest, wings wrapped around himself to fight against the cold. His head was tucked against his knees, ebony hair covering his eyes. This was not his spot to stargaze. This was not like all those times you'd sat together, whispering your dreams to the stars, so hopeful and eager for the future. This was not the ambitious and hopeful High Lord who had swept you into the glittering world of the Night Court and mapped out a future among the stars with you all those years ago. You had gone to the cabin in Illyria only once while he was away, and the loss of him, the bond so quite and empty and cold in the place you had formed it had been so devastating you'd almost ripped the place apart one wood plank at a time. At the time you had been so sure you had lost him forever that you'd nearly ripped everything you had built together apart in your grief. You had left all those dreams you shared in those woods and vowed that you would never whisper any prayers to the stars ever again. Not if their heir was gone and their reflection in his violet eyes would never look your way again. You had stopped dreaming in his absence. Nights like this you wondered if he had too. Perhaps the Mountain had taken more from both of you then you dared to admit, even to each other. What good were dreams if the stars no longer listened, if they would no longer answer you?

It was an easy climb to him compared to all the other roofs you had climbed to sit with him in the past, even with the blanket still clutched around your shoulders.

Rhys didn't look up. You weren't even sure he'd heard you. Still, you lowered yourself to sit next to him, the worry swirling in the pit of your stomach only beginning to settle as you took in the jasmine and citrus scent of him. This was the part where you said something witty, threw the blanket around him and chastised him for leaving you alone, but maybe those were games for the people you were before. The last time he hadn't heard you coming, too caught up in his own head to hear you, he'd flinched so hard his powers had knocked a bookshelf over, panic flooding the bond. He accidentally showed you a flash of red hair and pointed nails, scratching at his back before he'd ripped the memory away and locked himself in the bathroom. You'd been trying to find ways to avoid doing it ever again.

It was a long, tense few minutes before Rhys lifted his head off his knees just enough to look at you. "Did I wake you?" His voice was raw, like he'd been screaming.

You wanted to touch him, to hold him in your arms and stroke his hair and make it all better, as his touch had always done for you, but everything was so different. Sometimes you were sure he let you hold his hands because he knew you wanted to, not because he wanted to.

It had been a long couple months, you'd been weighing and measuring every word, trying not to startle him, trying not to make him feel any guilt or shame. He had saved you, and your family, had given everything he'd had to ensure that she didn't taint any bit of your home, you owed him a solid front, a shoulder to lean on. You had not spoken of how scared you had been, how cold and empty and wretched you had felt for every moment of the last fifty years. You'd crafted a nice mask for the court to see, holding steady in his absence, not taking it off, even after his return in hopes that it would ease his burden. But the words came tumbling out of you, the tidal wave of emotions bubbling up and bursting out in a rush, "You scared me."

He sat up a little straighter, pain flashing across his star flecked eyes.

"The bond was quite," tears pricked your eyes. "Cold. You wouldn't answer me. You'd shut me out." It was that last bit more than anything. You could handle the nightmares. You could handle this new version of your mate, because truth be told there had been times you weren't sure he was ever coming back, whatever shape he was in was irrelevant in the long run as long as he was alive. All the newness, the unease and uncertainty, the new quite version of him was easy to handle. But the quiet, knowing he'd shut you out again...

"I know that you need time, and space, and I'm trying to give that to you, Rhys, but..."

He unfurled his wings enough to wrap one around you, an arm sliding around your waist to pull you against his side. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he whispered against your temple, planting gentle, feather light kisses against your skin as you buried your face in he crook of his neck.

He was here. He was safe. This was real. All things you often had to remind yourself of.

"Please don't shut me out like that," you whispered, the tears falling freely down your cheeks. "Not again. I can bear a lot, Rhys, but not any more of that."

His wings came back around to cover both of you as he stroked a hand through your hair. Still, aside from a few more whispered apologies, he didn't speak, didn't attempt to explain himself. You tried to tell yourself it was fine, he didn't have to explain, he'd earned the right to keep whatever he needed to to himself, if he wanted to tell you he would. But he still had not lowered his shields, did not project anything down the bond. A part of you wanted to scream, grab onto that tether that linked your souls together and shake it like you could somehow force life back into it. Maybe things would be better if you could. Maybe they'd be worse. You tried to tell yourself this was enough.

"There are things," he said finally, his voice pained like he was having trouble putting it together, no sign of that silver tongue of his. "Things I can't... can't talk about."

You laid your hand over his heart, feeling the uneven beat. It was rare for Rhys to be so obviously anxious.

"Things I won't talk about."

"It's not healthy-"

"No," he growled, tightening his grip on your waist to keep you from pulling back to look him in the eyes. By the uneasiness of his breathing you thought he might be crying himself. "You do not need to know. You will hear enough of my sins from everyone else."

Sins, as if he had done any of it willingly, as if he'd had any choice in it.

"You didn't have a choice," you began.

"It doesn't matter," Rhys countered. "That is not the story they will tell."

He would be the villain, the little lackey that did her dirty work, the monster that ripped people's minds apart for his evil queen. You'd heard the story in the High Lord's meetings over and over again--and worse, especially from Beron and Tamlin. "I don't believe anyone else's stories. I don't care what they think you've done, or why you'd done it. I don't care, Rhys, because it's not true."

He buried his head in the top of you hair, a shuttering breath ripping out his chest.

You shot as much understanding and love down the bond as you could, hoping some of it would eventually break through that wall between you. "I love you, I'll always love you, Rhys, nothing will change that."

His wings tightened around you, soft moonlight shining through the soft membrane, highlighting centuries worth of nicks and battle scars. You longed to run your fingers over them, familiarize yourself once again with the patterns and feelings you had forgotten in the last fifty years.

"But how are we supposed to move forward if we don't talk to each other?" You whispered. "I miss you. I miss talking to you. You're my best friend, my mate, we promised to always be honest and open with each other."

You twisted to be able to look at him, pulling away just enough to catch the glimmer of tears in his eyes. You reached out gently to wipe one off his cheek and he shuttered at the contact.

"It doesn't have to be tonight. Or tomorrow. Or next week. I know that you need time, and I am not asking you to give me details you don't want to, but there's gotta be some way for us to talk to each other again, isn't there?"

He tilted his head to kiss your fingertips. "I'm sorry, I know I've hurt you," he murmured against your fingertips, his lips soft and warm against your chilled skin. "I'm trying." He moved his lips to your palm, placing featherlight kisses on the way down, his offering of another apology, as if to tell you he was sorry you had to be there to wipe away any tears. He'd been like that before, but not this bad.

"I know," you said, "but in the mean time, can I at least have a thought for a thought?"

He hummed against your palm. "You first."

"I'm thinking we really should have put in more comfortable roof tiles," you said, twisting against the tile that was biting into the underside of your thighs.

He shifted and pulled you to sit in his lap with a huff of what was almost a laugh. The shift in conversation was good, kept you both from spiraling further into all the uncertainty the future still held. If you couldn't talk about the past, at least there were things in the present to talk about.

"And I'm thinking," you added as you settled against his strong chest, his heartbeat a bit more steady against you now. "That you make a very comfortable seat."

"That's two."

"First one was free," you say, resting your head against his shoulder.

He was quiet for a long moment, just the two of you wrapped in each other under the stars.

"I'm thinking..." his arms wrapped around your waist, his hands finding yours so you could intertwine them. "That I clearly need to get you some new socks, your feet are freezing!"

He was clad in nothing but his underwear, you only now realized, and you had instinctively wrapped your legs around his, seeking any kind of warmth you could find. There wasn't a full sleep set between the two of you.

You couldn't help but laugh, even if this wasn't how you'd hoped the conversation would go, at least it was a conversation. "You know I hate sleeping with socks on, that's not fair."

"Slippers than," he conceded.

You intentionally brushed your cold feet up the side of his leg. "Fuzzy ones. And only if they're bright pink."

"Ridiculous," he huffed, "but if you insist."

"I want them to look like cats too."

"Pink cats?"

"Pink cats."

"Pink cats it is then."

You grinned at that. "We can go to the Rainbow tomorrow for them?"

"First thing in the morning," he promised as he settled his chin on your shoulder.

"We should go for breakfast. There's a new bakery on the Sidra. Well, new as in neither of us have been there, it's technically been open for awhile."

"You didn't go?"

You two had met in a bakery in Illyria, had fought over the last chocolate croissant until the shop owner had kicked both you out for scarring the other customers, it had become something of a weekly tradition to find which shop in Velaris had the best ones since. "I was waiting for you."

The arms around your middle squeezed a little tighter.

"I have a list of things for us to do, actually. A lot changed and I thought if, maybe I kept making a list it gave the Mother a reason to bring you back to me." It felt stupid, now that you'd said it aloud that you had hoped depriving yourself of a chocolate croissant would somehow force the Mother to bring your mate home, but you had been desperate, you weren't always thinking clearly.

Rhys nuzzled into the side of your neck. "Thank you, for waiting." You knew him well enough to know he wasn't talking about the bakery or the croissants.

"I would have waited a thousand years for you," you whispered.

"That's a long time without chocolate croissants," he teased.

"They're worth the wait," you replied, hoping he knew you well enough to know you weren't talking about croissants either.

He merely hummed understandingly as he settled against your shoulder, his breathing evening out against your back. You relished in the rise and fall of his chest, of his warm breath against your throat. He was alive, he was here, he'd made it home.

"What else is on this list of yours?"

"There's a new dinner cruise around the Sidra, an art exhibit in the Rainbow, three new plays," you counted them off on your fingers, trying to remember all of them now. Sleep was beginning to beckon again, your eyes heavy, speech slowing. "The Night Orchestra is coming back into town, you missed them twice. There's a new ice cream shop to try..." there was something else, but your mind was growing hazy. A yawn escaped you.

Rhys tried to stand, but you grabbed frantically at his wrists. "I'm ok. Wanna stay here with you."

He settled back against the roof, laying back now with you tucked into his side. The blanket had gotten twisted between the two of you, doing little to keep out the bite of the roof tiles. You didn't care.

"Oh! There's a new place that sells some lacy things I think you'd like," you mumbled as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck and breathed in deep.

"For you or me?" He teased.

"For you to rip off of me," you said.

He kissed your temple, "We'll definitely have to stop there then."

You were trying your hardest to keep your eyes open, really you were, but they were growing heavier and heavier, the stars over head blurring in your vision. Maybe you had been wrong to stop wishing on them, despite all your pain, your mate had still returned to you, that dream had still been answered.

"We're gonna be ok, you know," You murmured into his neck.

"You think so?" He whispered.

"I'll wish it onto every star I see until it's answered," you vowed.

Rhys gripped you a little tighter, you gripped him back, eyes drifting shut fully now.

"Maybe I'll start making wishes again too," he said in your ear. You hoped, as you drifted off, that the stars heard him and would answer this wish too.

[freyito]

ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛ! ⨟ ɪᴅɪᴀ ꜱʜʀᴏᴜᴅ

✭ pairing(s): idia shroud x gn reader

✩ in which: he celebrates halloween with you.

✧ a/n: i got attached to this Guy overnight and i need to take a bite out of him. Anyways!

✦ taglist: @shinysora

→ trick or treat masterlist

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff :P, maybe a little ooc? (havent read ignihyde's chapter yet ((so many idia vignettes tho)), not proofread

✎ wc: 677

Trick

Well, for one, Idia is absolutely, positively, against any party whatsoever. He’s not here for the hype week, he’s in it for the candy and showing off his cosplay skills. As such, unless you are in his room at all times, he kind of sucks at communication during Halloween Season. Which means unless you want some alone time (or he kicks you out), you’re bunking with him quite a bit. No matter how much he protests.

You might get dragged into his games, especially with their Halloween events. If even one of them has a co-op or invitation event, you’re pushed into making a new account or joining him. And you must, at least, run dungeons with him 10 times a day. He has to stay at the top of rankings somehow! And you’re his key to that, one that he’s not necessarily willing to give up, either.

He also tends to buy extra candy. What, to give away? No! He’s hoarding this stuff like a dragon and it’s pile of gold. Sure, he’ll give you some, but if he has to play nice, he’s doubling his pay. In gummy worms. Oh, and he gatekeeps any gummies from other people. Not you, of course, you can take as much as you want (as long as you leave him some of the blue raspberry or cherry flavored ones). But, this leads to an excess of candy bags just… chilling in his room now. Not that he tosses them wherever he wants, he has a carefully crafted system, you know. But sometimes there is something known as too much candy.

Treat

Despite all of that, isn’t Idia the best person to hang out with during Halloween? With all his dedication to his costume, it comes out genuinely wonderful. He spent most of his time working on the finer details, one of the truest adaptations of… which character was it again? You’ve heard so much of this character that it feels like your brain has fizzled out. Regardless, his costume is still amazing, you’re a little jealous. And you’re sure you’ll hear much more about the character, and you’ll be subjected to watching the show regardless. Not that you mind.

You are in for a nice and cozy night, however. After the parade is done and Idia’s social battery is thoroughly drained, all he wants to do is either sleep (which he can’t because he’s gorged himself on candy), or finish up the events on his games to make sure he stays at the top of the rankings. Once he’s finally free of his costume (after about an hour…), he takes a couple of minutes in your arms, laying on top of you like a massive pillow, while he mutters something about his costume and what not. After about half an hour, he’s up and at ‘em, back at his game. Perhaps he’s realized how he’s neglected you over the month, and so he does his best to include you in his gametime, whether you choose to play with him, or simply sit on his bed and listen to what he has to say.

Before the sugar wears off, Idia is suddenly cramming in a last minute grind session, hopping from server to server to kill the event’s boss as the minutes tick down. Even as he’s fighting sleep, he’s kicking monster ass and topping the rankings. You can feel yourself slipping into sleep until he jolts you awake with a loud “YEEESSS!”. Almost immediately after that leaves his mouth, he’s apologizing profusely to you in a soft voice, completely forgetting about his game and slinking over with his hands out like he was calming down a scared horse.

With his win secured, he slips into bed easily. Which is earlier then he usually falls asleep, about a couple more hours before. But he’s won top ranking player during almost every event for three years in a row, and perhaps it’s time to celebrate (by sleeping early– and sleeping in even later), and also apologize for waking you up so abruptly.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[upat4amwiththemoon]

so i checked out your guidelines and you said that you like plot to be included too so i hope this isn't too much for you.

R is 11 here if that's okay with you.

can i ask you to write an avengers x teen!reader where tony adopts a kid from foster care and the team is trying to get her to open up but she locks herself in her room because she's used to moving from home to home or being abused in the system so she's scared to do anything normal like interact and stuff like that. when they showed her room on the first day she was hesitant to go in bc she's used to poor treatment. Wanda and Nat are the first ones to notice her behavior and they point it out to the rest of the team. they come up with a plan to help her but it only pushes her further away from them bc she isn't used to that much attention. they decide that when she's ready she'll come to them so one game night she tip toes downstairs and peaks in the living room to see them having a good time. wanda or vision senses her energy and she tries to silently sneak back but they invite her in and she reluctantly joins them. she isn't too familiar with the games they're playing so they teach her then afterwards they watch a bunch of movies and they're glad they can give her the family she never had.

Family

Summary: Sometimes it takes a while to find your true family.

Pairing: Avengers x teen!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 1116

a/n: This is not too much at all! Thank you for the request :) (I’m sorry this is terrible)

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

Walking into an entirely new surroundings is always anxiety inducing, but it’s especially scary when the people leading you to your so called new room are the world’s mightiest heroes.

There’s two men and two women in front of her, she knows who they are, of course, but she isn’t going to bring it up. Surely they have already sensed it.

One of the men, Iron Man, or Tony, as he told her to call him, is talking constantly. His hands are moving up and down, side to side as he gestures to different rooms and what’s in them. He is walking right in front of her, creating a sort of barrier between them. Wanda on the other hand, is walking next to her, occasionally glancing down at her.

Y/N keeps her eyes on Tony’s back. She doesn’t want to look anyone in the eyes or seem too fearful by mapping out the place.

“And this here,” Tony stops walking and opens a door, “is your room.” He turns to look at her with a big grin.

Not moving, Y/N stares inside the room. The four of them keep looking at her, waiting to see her reaction, but they get none.

Tony clears her throat. “You can go in, kid.” With small steps, she goes into the room. “We know it’s a bit empty, but you just tell me whatever you need and want, and I’ll buy it.”

She doesn’t need anything. It’s not like this room will be hers for long. It’s usual for her to stay in a home for a month at best. So, it’s better to not get attached to anything or anyone.

Wanda has a frown on her face as she watches Y/N set down her tiny bag. She’s worried of the girl, but puts those feelings on the side, this is a big change after all.

“Should we leave you to settle in?” Steve speaks up when the silence starts to drag on for a long time. “Someone could come get you when dinner is ready.”

With a nod from Y/N, the four of them close the door and leave her alone with her thoughts. With no one around, she lets out a deep breath and starts inspecting the room. It’s bigger than any other room she has had, and cleaner.

It’ll definitely be harder to leave this room behind when the time eventually comes.

After two very uneventful days, Natasha and Wanda have started talking with the other Avengers how Y/N doesn’t seem to get better, even though they’re giving her plenty of space. So, they decide to try another approach.

Wanda knocks on the door with a huge smile. Some of the other team members are behind her with boxes.

Opening the door only slightly, Y/N peeks through the gap. “Hi!” Wanda waves. “We got you something, if you could open the door a bit more?” Her voice is gentle and on the quieter side.

Y/N opens the door properly. Her eyes widen when she noticed the others and all the boxes waiting there. “We bought you some furniture and decorations.” Natasha brings one of the boxes in the room. “Obviously, we don’t know for sure what you like, but I think we got some good stuff.”

She stays frozen on her spot, out of the way, staring at the others walking in and out of the room. There are so many of them at the same time. Y/N doesn’t understand what they’re doing. Is this a test?

In fear of being punish for a wrong reaction, she decides to not react at all. Her hands are shaking behind her back, but she doesn’t let them see her fear. She just stares at them with a stoic expression.

“What do you think?” Wanda asks once the things are set. “You can obviously change things around if they aren’t to your liking, but this is a good start, yeah?” When Y/N just nods mutely, Wanda’s smile falls.

A silence falls over the room. Very uncomfortable and heavy silence. “Well,” Natasha clears her throat. “We’ll let you be.”

When the door closes, Wanda and Natasha glance at each other. “That didn’t work out the way I wanted.” Wanda mumbles. “I really thought that’d help her get out of her shell.”

“Maybe we just need to let her be.”

She huffs. “I know, it’s just so difficult when I can basically hear her worries.”

“It’ll happen, lets just do it on her terms.”

A week goes by where it almost seems like Y/N pulled into her shell even more. She wouldn’t speak to anyone, or even want to physically be in the same room as someone else. One of the team members always had to go knock on her door and leave a plate of food in front of it, so she would eat.

Most of the team got back into their regular routines, though their worry stayed the same, but they couldn’t stand outside her door forever. Wanda and Natasha would talk to her through the door at times, even if the conversation was fully one sided.

Today, the Avengers decided to spend the evening playing different board games. It’s not unusual for them, as they like to do bonding activities together.

Tony knocked on Y/N’s door to ask her to join them, but only got a small head shake as an answer. However, after an hour and a half, Y/N opens the door carefully.

She sneaks towards the living room, being cautious not to make any noise. Stopping right before the room, she peaks in. All the team members are laughing and shouting together.

Y/N takes deep breaths to calm herself down, these kind of situations still make her incredibly nervous. Suddenly, Wanda turns to look at her.

Her eyes turn wide and she is just about to turn away to go back to her room’s safety, but Wanda speaks up before she can. “Hey, sweetheart. Do you want to join us?” Now some of the others turn to look at her.

With hesitance, Y/N starts walking towards them. They’re surprised by this, but try their best not to show it. “We’re playing Monopoly. You ever played it?” Tony asks as Y/N sits between Wanda and Natasha.

“No.”

“That’s alright, we’ll teach you.” Wanda smiles, putting one more pawn to the board.

Y/N stays quiet for quite some time during the game night, but when the evening goes on, she starts initiating conversation more and even leans on Wanda’s side at times.

Maybe this family is different after all, it certainly isn’t ordinary.

[the-froschamethyst4]

My Daddy is My Hero

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Price x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: TOOTH ROTTING fluff, slight angst, language, married couple, children, codenames,

𖤐Summary: Your daughter Iris had a project for her school and it was ‘Who is your Hero’ and picks someone close to her

————

————

"Mama."

Y/n heard the tiny voice of her 7 year-old daughter Iris. She smiles and turns to look at her daughter.

"Yes, baby?" Y/n asks.

"We're doing a project for school, called 'My Hero' and I decided to do daddy, can you help me?" Iris asks.

"Okay, what do you need me to do?" Y/n says, wiping her hands and placing her hands on her hips walking to her daughter.

"What did daddy do?"

"For the military?" Iris nods in response. "Well, why don't I help you with your paper first, okay?"

"Okay, mama."

"Alright let me see what you got."

This was a week ago, Y/n helped Iris with her paper for hours and kept the project a secret from John.

"My Hero is my daddy, John Bravo Six Price. My daddy was part of the Military as a Captain, he is also the member of the British SAS. Sometimes my daddy is away for months, and I miss every time he leaves, but he tells me he'll come back safe and he always brings me a souvenir from his adventures." She digs in her backpack and pulls out a few things to show off.

"This is a picture of my daddy and some of his work friends, this one is Ghost and this one is Gaz." She puts them back and then grabs a few things that Price has brought back for her.

"This is a mini pyramid, when he went to Egypt. This is a tin art piece from Mexico, they traditionally have art of landscapes of them and pretty flowers. And this is stein from Germany, they usually put their drinks in it." She puts everything back in her bag.

"My daddy is currently in Russia right now and is coming back today, I am excited to see my daddy, and he is my hero."

"Wow! Thank you Iris for sharing, a round of applauds for Iris," her teacher says.

--------

At the end of the day Iris had walked outside to see her mom standing in the car rider line.

"MAMA!"

"Hi, baby," Y/n bends down kissing her daughter's temple, Y/n noticed her paper in her hands. "What's this baby?" Y/n asked.

"My paper for my hero, I got a 100% and a gold star," Iris smiles.

"That's great baby," Y/n kissed her daughter's temple again, before they walked to Y/n's car.

"Mama, is daddy coming home today?"

"Yep," Y/n says, buckling her daughter in her car seat.

----------

Once Y/n pulled into the driveway and helped her daughter out of her car seat they go inside and Y/n placed Iris's paper on the fridge, so when John comes in, he'll see it.

--------

Iris and Y/n played some board games before Price came home. Price was stuck in traffic and just wanted to go home to his family, Y/n smiled at her daughter who was still trying to understand the rules of the game.

"Honey you move 4 spaces."

"But when I play with Anna, she says I'm suppose to move 8 times."

"Why?" Y/n asked with a confused look and a slight giggle.

"Because four plus four equals eight."

"Honey, you're not adding anything. What you roll is what you roll, you rolled a four so you move four places."

"Okay, mama," Iris says with no more argument.

"Daddy has finally arrived," John says as he comes through the front door, Iris pops her head up and Y/n looks over her shoulder at her husband.

"DADDY!" Iris yells, running towards him. He drops his stuff and picks her up.

"How is my baby girl, huh?" He asks Iris kissing her cheek.

"Good," Y/n gets up off the floor and walks over to him, her hands running over his shoulders and hugging his neck.

"And how is mommy doing?" He asked in a bit of a seductive tone before kissing Y/n's lips.

"Just fine." She says to him.

"Oh daddy, look," Iris wiggled from his hold and ran to the fridge, pulling the paper off the fridge.

"What's this?" He asks her, looking at the 100% with his usual big smile and then reading 'My Hero'. "Oh...I remember doing a project like this when I was younger, my hero was Aunt," he smiles and bends down to his daughter. "Who was yours, baby?" He asks.

"Read it daddy," she giggles and hands him the paper.

"My hero is my..." Price looks at it thinking maybe he was reading it wrong. "My daddy...Captain John Bravo Six Price." He reads the papers, tears wanting to fall from his eyes but he held them, choking on some of the words.

Iris hated seeing her father so upset...The last time she's seem him upset is when her grandpa passed away. Iris took her small hand wiping her daddy's tears that did soon fall on his cheeks.

The sight melted Y/n's heart. Price's big hand cupped hers and kissed her knuckles.

"Thank you, baby," he says, pulling her into the biggest and longest hug. "This deserves to be framed," he jokes and looks at his wife who has been crying since Price started reading the paper. He pulls her into a hug as well.

----------

9:00PM

Price couldn't help but constantly re-reading the paper, he was laying in bed, Y/n was doing her nightly routine and Iris was asleep peacefully in her bed.

"John?"

"Why did she pick me?" He asked.

"Because she loves you," Y/n says, crawling on the bed.

She cups his face and kissed his lips. "Did she tell you, she was going to pick me?"

"Yes...but...she loves you...she loves the little things you bring back for her, she took one of your bucket hats to school because she missed you so much. You are her hero, Price and you always will be, I hope you know that."

----------

Price couldn't sleep, he looks at the ceiling and then at his sleeping wife next to him, he caresses her face kissing her forehead and getting out of the bed. He puts on a t-shirt and headed down the hall

He goes to the kitchen, he notices the light on in the kitchen and then seeing a little someone with a glass in her hands.

"Iris...baby, what are you doing up?" He asked.

"I can't sleep, and I was thirsty," Iris says, looking up at him, but he bends down to her level. She walks to him, his arms wrapping around her as she was still holding her glass of water.

"Come on, baby," he rubs her side and kiss her temple as she followed him back to her bedroom. He opens her bedroom door and she walks in, placing her glass on the nightstand and getting back into her bed but Price rests on her right side of her.

"Daddy."

"Yes?"

"Can you stay home, tomorrow?" Iris asked, looking at her daddy. She rolls on her side and plays with his dog tags.

"I can see," he says, placing his arm over her side rubbing her side again and patting her small leg.

Iris's eyes felt heavy, and she ended up falling asleep, Price looked to his right and looked down at his tired, sleeping daughter, he smiles kissing the top of her head.

He ends up falling asleep in Iris's bed, Y/n woke up to an empty bed and walked to her daughter's bedroom seeing a sleeping Price and Iris.

Price holding Iris and her face buried into his side. She smiles at her husband and baby girl, she walks in kissing his forehead and kissing Iris's temple.

--------

The next morning Y/n and Iris were in the kitchen and Price was still asleep in his daughter twin size bed. Iris's princess blanket draped over him.

Y/n pushed a mug of hot chocolate to Iris and Y/n stood next to Iris to help her with homework. Price had came out of his daughter's bedroom yawning and looking at his daughter and wife.

He kisses Y/n's neck and kisses Iris's forehead, he fixes himself some tea and leans over the counter watching his two girls.

Iris was writing down what Y/n was telling her, Y/n's right hand moved Iris's dirty blonde hair from her face, looking like the girl version of her father but the feminine features of her mother.

Price sees the paper on 'My Hero' on the counter and placed it back on the fridge, he kisses his daughter's temple and wife's temple before walking into the master bedroom and grabbing his phone.

He was going to fulfil his daughter's wishes and he will stay home today.

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Courting Ayelýn

Series Listing Found Here

Aonung x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Pressured by his parents to enter a formal courtship, Aonung rebels in his own way and what starts as a ruse, turns into something real. 

Note before reading: This is a spin off of my Safe Haven Series.

Reading Safe Haven is not necessary to follow this story.

Some characters have been aged up. Aonung in particular is 25.

Ayelýn is my own creation. *Pronounced Aye-Lin

Warning!! This part contains spice.

~

Part 3 - When They Pretended

“Hmm. What about her?”

“Where?”

“The tall, pouty one by the fire who’s glanced in our direction a total of three- no four times in the last minute.” The female was openly glaring at Ayelýn now. “Oh, she doesn’t seem happy with me at all.”

“Mm, maybe.” Aonung answered dismissively. 

“Eywa,” Lýn snickered. “Definitely her. Skxawng, just how many hearts have you broken, hm? I’m starting to lose count.”

“Not my fault,” he mumbled into her hair, his breath tickling the tip of her ear. “They all knew nothing more would happen after.”

It had gradually become a sort of game between the two of them. By now, Ayelýn had attended numerous clan gatherings, feasts and ceremonies as his formal courting partner- during which she’d sometimes guess whether or not he’d slept and or fooled around with her pick of a random female. 

While definitely not tasteful in the least, it had only started out of pure boredom on her part, sprinkled with a bit of curiosity each time she received an ugly sneer or muttered curse or even an outright confrontation from an upset, jealous female that thankfully at one time, Lo’ak and Rotxo were there to intervene. 

And Aonung being Aonung- shameless about his past entanglements, usually entertained the game, mostly by engaging her with cocky remarks and teasing that sometimes- always made Lýn blush. 

Tonight however, he was reserved. 

Lýn frowned at this. “What? No overly snarky comeback?”

With his chest pressed against her back, his arms tightened around her, and, head falling to the side, he nuzzled his face into the juncture of her neck. “Not tonight.” 

Forgetting about the game, she turned in the circle of his arms to face him, earning a disgruntled noise of disapproval from him losing his comfortable spot. 

Upon her arrival a little while ago, she’d been pulled between his thighs as he leaned- half stood, half sat against a mangrove root and she’d been there ever since- not that she was really putting up much of a fight.

In the months they’d been playing pretend, they’d gotten quite good with their act. Their physical affections had become more of a habit rather than a necessity and their arguments turned bickering, tethered the line of excessive flirtation.

“That’s a first,” she said. “What’s with you tonight?” 

“My hunting party went way past the boarders every night this week. Guess I’m just tired.” 

“Oh.” Fiddling idly with the talon hanging around his neck, Lýn wondered whether she should leave. But she had just arrived though. The dancing hadn’t even begun yet for tonight’s celebrations. 

“Oh?” he voiced, catching her serious expression. 

“It’s- Well, you’ve been spending most of your days at Keftxo. Hunts at night- not to mention your other responsibilities… When exactly do you sleep?” she wondered, feeling a little guilty. He was only coming to Keftxo after all, because of her.  

Aonung cocked his head to the side with a soft smile. “There you go again… worrying about me.”

Eyes fiery, she jutted her jaw. “Well someone has too!” she snapped. “Three weeks ago, somebody stabbed himself with a fishhook and didn’t even bother to get it tended to. The cut would have gotten infected if I hadn’t stepped in!”

“Accidentally stabbed, gorgeous. Accidentally.”

She ignored him. “And then last week, you thought it was a good idea to go exploring during a storm. A storm, Aonung.”

“I didn’t go!” he exclaimed in defense. “Your nagging was enough to make any man go crazy.”

“My nagging probably saved your life,” she muttered. “How exactly have you survived this long without me?”

“That’s an excellent question.” 

Her comment was meant as a joke, but seeing his face scrunched up as though he were actually considering the question, made her chortle and smack him playfully. 

“Speaking of sleep, you’re not sleeping either, I see.” 

Her brows narrowed up at him. “How’d you know?”

Without responding, his hand framed her jaw and a thumb brushed under her left eye. She shivered from his intimate touch and silently cursed the wretched dark circles for giving her away. 

“You need to sleep, Lýn. Otherwise you’ll be cranky and snippy more than usual and though I have yet to lure you into my bed, you’d most definitely try to smother me in my sleep like you’re always threatening.” 

There was the teasing bastard she knew and despised.  

“You have a really punchable face. Did you know that?” she asked sweetly, making him toss his head back with a loud bark of laughter that earned them many stares. 

“Have you been speaking with Lo’ak again?” 

“Yes,” she confirmed. “In fact,” she continued, “I think I’ll daydream about doing just that right before I sleep tonight.” She made a pretend, dramatically slow swing for his face but he caught it. “Might just do the trick. No?”

Aonung’s eyes darkened and Ayelýn knew she’d just set herself up. 

“Gorgeous, I know of a few other things you can think of that might work a lot better for you,” he taunted, voice low and deep as he teasingly made her palm run down the length of his chest.

Her hand was stopped precariously low near his tweng, making her inhale sharply. 

It was not the first time they’d found themselves treading in dangerous waters, but it was getting harder every time to hide just how affected she was. 

She smacked him and squirmed when his tail curled around her calf with no intention of releasing her. “Enough with the flirting, skxawng.” Turning serious when he released a wide yawn, she poked his side. “I know it’s still early, but you should probably rest. I can g-” 

His hands tightened around her hips as though she were about to leave. “I’ll survive. Stay.”

“Aonung,” Rotxo called low as he approached them. “Heads up, brother, but Ezly is here tonight.”

Aonung cursed and Ayelýn perked up in interest, especially when he hugged her closer and began to scan the crowd of Na’vi from over her head. 

“Who is Ezly?”

“No one.”

Palms flat against the panes of his stomach, she pushed off him and perched on a high mangrove root beside an amused Rotxo. 

“Come back here, Lýn,” he ordered grumpily. “Ayelýn.” 

“Shush. I am talking to my friend Rotxo.”

“Everytime we hang out, I think I like you a little more each time, Lýn.”

“The fuck-”

“Aw, Rotxo. That’s so sweet,” Lýn responded, ignoring Aonung’s mumbling theatrics. “I like you too."

“Have I gone invisible?” Aonung muttered to himself. 

“So, you were saying, Ro’? Who is Ezly?” 

The man snorted, then hesitated as though realizing who he was talking to exactly. His eyes flickered to his best friend then back to Ayelýn’s inquisitive ones. 

“Ez is from the Nanlu village and she uh… strongly believes that she and Aonung are meant to be. She’s overly persistent about it and it’s a pain for us all whenever she visits.”

“Persistent is putting it kindly,” Aonung snarked, arms folded as he sulked. 

“She’s quite terrifying,” Rotxo admitted. “Even Aonung thinks so.” 

Lýn laughed. “She can’t be that bad.” When neither man cracked a smile, her face fell. “Oh.”

And when Lo’ak showed up ten minutes later with a panicked, “Psycho bitch alert!” Rotxo scrambled and disappeared behind the omaticaya man while Ayelýn suddenly found herself accosted by a wall of muscle and a delicious wave of what was starting to become her favourite scent in the world. 

“Hi.”

“Hi?” she squeaked, mildly amused by the odd change in his behavior, hands automatically resting on his forearms… She liked his arms. 

“Do you remember when you told me about your list of rules?” 

“My rul- Wh-” Brain gone frazzled, she failed to comprehend his words… Most likely because she found herself desperately trying to not erupt into flames from the scorching palm that suddenly wrapped rather possessively around her upper thigh. 

Legs dangling, her knees bracketed his hips and although she was very accustomed to his familiar touch by now, this… this had her feeling flushed and bothered and very tempted to do something foolish. 

“Lýn, are you with me?” he asked, either unaware of the effect he was having on her or too distracted to care. “I’m going to kiss you.” 

That snapped her out of her haze. 

“You will not! My rules were clear and-”

“It’s one kiss, Ayelýn.” 

“Because of Ezline?”

“Ezly,” he corrected. “And yes. She’ll back off once she notices that I’m preoccupied.”

“I am not going to kiss you just because you couldn’t keep your dick in your tweng. This Elza or whoever is your problem, not mine.”

He grinned wickedly and leaned in further. “Oh? Well one- my dick loves when you talk about him-” She made a disgusted face but he continued, “-and two. I never slept with Ezly.”

“One- yuck and two, then why is she so obsessed with you?”

“Okay. Okay. I know what it is. I know why you won’t kiss me.”

“What?”

Aonung nodded sympathetically. “You’re a bad kisser. That’s why.”

Her jaw dropped. “I’m-” She scoffed. “I’m not a bad kisser, you skxawng!”

“Really? Then prove it, gorgeous. Or is the sight of my face really that repulsive?”

“You’re trying to trick me.”

“Nope. I'm a simple man, standing here, begging you to give me one measly, little peck.” 

“You’re begging? Ha! History has been made. Shall I tell the tale at the next storytelling gathering?” 

“Funny.” He pinched her side making her yelp in the middle of her snicker. 

“I can’t believe you pinched me!”

“I’ll kiss it better later. Now would you do me this one favor?”

“I’m doing you quite a lot of favors already, if you didn’t notice!”

They were so close now, their noses brushed- him so freakishly gigantic that he hovered over her even though she sat on a high mangrove root.

“Is she really so bad?” 

“The worse. You are my only hope,” he mumbled dramatically. His voice rumbled deep and Ayelýn shivered, making him grin. 

“Aonung! Aonung!” a shrill voice called from nearby. 

Aonung froze and in response so did Ayelýn.

“Is that-” 

“Ayelýn, p-” 

And without another thought, she cupped his cheeks and fused their lips together. 

~

Now Aonung had had his fair share of kisses in life… but-

Kissing Ayelýn was- 

Fuck. 

Aonung’s brain went completely blank. Tense muscles relaxing, he sank into it as the sounds of the clan surrounding them turned mute. 

It was just him and her. 

Slow and sweet. 

And perfect. 

To his pleasant surprise, her tongue ventured first, curiously sliding along his bottom lip- and damn if it wasn’t hot when she found his own and sucked. 

He almost hated that she wasn’t wrong- she was a fucking fantastic kisser and he never wanted them stop. 

She was gentle yet demanding and when he won their battle for dominance and deepened their kiss, the sound she made went right to his dick. He didn’t even care that she most definitely could feel it either- rapidly growing hard and pressed up against her stomach- and far too intimate.

Ayelýn didn’t know how long they’d been at it- truthfully, part of her didn’t care, but eventually her lungs began begging for air and her lips were slowly turning numb. Breaking the kiss first with a deep gasp, she mewled, fingers digging into his biceps when Aonung dived for her throat, unable to help himself. 

As though he’d been deprived of a great gift and couldn’t seem to grapple with restraint and self control, he was ruthless. The hand on her thigh burned a path of heat against her skin as it travelled higher, landing on her ribs, thumb brushing just under her left breast. The other held her in place by the nape.  

He wanted her. Badly. 

“Ah- Aonung!” Ayelýn rasped. Dizzy, her stifled moan came out as a needy whimper when he sucked at her pulse. Eywa. “I- I think Ezla’s gone,” she managed. 

And then just like that, when he’d registered her words, he suddenly felt cold and very, very tired. 

~

In the few weeks that followed, Lýn’s mood plummeted. She’d deduced that it was most likely because she hadn’t spent much time with Aonung. 

When exactly that became a thing… She wasn’t quite sure. 

And in truth, while they weren’t exactly spending time together, she still technically had been seeing him around- almost every other day in fact, sometimes multiple days in a row.  

He’d been spending most of his free time at Keftxo for the past month and some. Leading a team consisting of members from both Awa’atlu and Keftxo- Ayelýn’s father included, their little village was slowly changing before her eyes. 

Ayelýn didn’t think that Aonung would take her request so seriously, much less he himself work alongside the others… but everytime she caught sight of him scaling high to help weave a ceiling into place, or pull hard on ropes- she knew would cause blisters- to secure a new doc, her heart melted a little more and her feelings for him grew. 

That was another new discovery she’d been battling with. She didn’t know the exact moment it happened, only that one day she found herself wondering what it would feel like if their situation were different… were real. 

At first, she’d brushed it off. 

It was a stupid crush she’d told herself. 

But then the skxawng had somehow convinced her to kiss him, and well, it had been no help. If anything, it made things worse. It took everything within her to stop the kiss, and even more, it was taking everything within her to guard her heart. 

They were on a timeline that had an end date…

He wasn’t hers to keep.

~

“You’re avoiding me,” she finally snapped one evening as she dried her freshly washed face.

Ayelýn had had a long, grueling day of work. Her fingers ached, she was tired and coming home to find him sitting at her family’s table as if he belonged there had only soured her mood even further.  

Aonung’s attention flickered to her for a fleeting second while two other pairs of eyes stared at her- wide and innocent. 

“That’s dumb. Why would he be here if he were avoiding you?” Kaiiff asked, nose wrinkled in confusion as he, Aonung and Khalhan continued to tinker away at some foreign object. “You live here, Lýn.”

“Kaii has a point,” the skxawng smirked. 

Ayelýn made an unimpressed noise. “Kaiiff, Khalhan. Go play outside, please.”

Khalhan had already gotten to his feet from the request but Lýn’s littler brother protested. “Wh- but Aonung is hanging out with us! Can’t you yell at him for whatever it is, later?”

“Kaiiff!”

“Fine!” the eight year old hollered. Then to Aonung, “If you survive, don’t finish our project without us.”

Aonung raised his hands at the bossy order. “Promise, I won't.”

The second the two boys left, Ayelýn was demanding answers. “Is this about the kiss?” 

His head snapped towards her. “The… the kiss?” 

Oh that got his attention alright. 

“No, it’s-”

“What else should I think it is then?” Her arms folded and her hip cocked. 

“It’s not! Eywa. You’re overreacting, woman.” 

“Am I? Look me in the eye and tell me you’ve not been avoiding me because of that.”

He couldn’t. 

“See, I knew we shouldn’t have-”

“Ayelýn, will you stop! The kiss didn’t even mean anything! It was nothing but a stupid mistake.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. Realistically she knew that, but his words still stung. “A mistake.” No. It hurt. “You asked me to, Aonung.”

“Well. Now, I’m thinking I shouldn't have.”

“...Right.” 

He blew out a tired breath as he stood. “I’m going to head home, it’s getting late.”

“Yeah- okay,” she nodded, shifting to the side to let him pass. Better that than throttling him like she so very much wanted to. 

“I’ll see you next week, Lýn.”

But she didn’t want to wait until next week… Her fingers snagged his own before he could get any further.

“Aonung.” Voice soft in vulnerability, her eyes were almost pleading. “I hate this… I hate this.” 

“Fuck,” he whispered tiredly. He was such a scum. He was hurting her. Aonung pulled her into his arms and she just about melted into his embrace in relief. “I’m such a skxawng, Ayelýn.”

“The biggest,” she agreed, words muffled into his chest as she squeezed him tight. “Swear,” she continued. “You’re behaving like an idiot teenager who’s just gotten their first kiss and doesn’t know how to handle it. And we both know you’ve had your fair share. I thought we were friends, Aonung. You can’t treat me like that.”

“We are friends, and I’m sorry. Though it really wasn’t about the kiss,” he lied again. “And to be fair, I think you kissed the stupid out of me.” 

“Oh no, there’s definitely a whole lot of stupid in you still,” she rebutted, making him cackle. “Stupid you, stupid me and that stupid kiss.”

He snickered, and tickled her side. “Take that back. Our kiss wasn’t stupid. And I told you, it wasn’t the kiss.”

Ayelýn’s chin poked a pectoral when she gave him a look that read, I don’t believe you, you big stupid liar. “Do you not remember just saying it was a mistake?”

Giving a hesitant nod, his jaw ticked. “I- Lýn, I shouldn’t have said that. I was… upset.” 

“With me?”

He twirled a lock of her messy hair. It was always tangled and wild after a long day of work… he liked it like this. “No. No, not with you… with myself. I’m sorry I took it out on you.”

For the past few days, Aonung had been trying to decide whether or not he should continue with this farce of a plan he’d concocted. Ayelýn had him spiralling and feelings he had no damn right feeling for her stirred inside of him, all bittersweet and confusing. 

He went about dealing with it the wrong way of course. Avoiding the woman he had so clearly grown real feelings for however, only intensified what he felt. And with that distance, he missed her which then made him even more moody and dickish. 

Aonung had missed her pretty scowl and her insults and their banter. And this… Their casual- turned intimate touching was nothing but comfort and safety for him. 

‘When this is all over, I don't know what I’ll do with myself,’ he kept thinking. What was he going to do without her? 

“So, if it wasn’t about the kiss, what was it then?”

“Look, maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t about that,” he admitted.

“It’s a simple yes or no question, Aonung!”

“No. Believe me, gorgeous, it is anything but! Not when it comes to you.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?” she frowned. “Remind me to never kiss you again- unless I want you to ignore me for another two weeks,” she grumbled. 

Contemplating her words, his tongue poked his cheek. Then, as if coming to a decision, mirth danced in his eyes and his signature smirk grew. “What if I prove it to you?”

“Prove what?”

“That it wasn’t- the kiss.”

It damn well was the fucking kiss. Who was he trying to fool?

Catching his meaning, her mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out. They were still hugging, and although the man was gigantic, his shoulders were slumped, allowing his face to hover precariously close to hers. 

“What do you say, hm?”

“You want to kiss me again…” she said slowly, as if trying to understand. 

“Yes.”

“To prove that it… wasn’t the kiss?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes fell to his lips. She wondered what it would be like to run her tongue over the cute spot he had resting just above. 

“That’s a dumb idea. Better yet, that's the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

“We’ve already established that I am, in fact, a skxawng, gorgeous. I don’t know why you’re so surprised.”

That made her laugh. Only it ended on a nervous note.

“You’re overthinking, aren’t you?”

“No,” she lied and as if determined to not back down, she jerked her chin stubbornly. “Do it then.” 

“Yeah?” he breathed in surprise, thumb already running along her jaw as he inched closer. 

“Yeah,” she answered just as quietly as he. 

Their feet moved, almost like a slow dance as he walked her backwards until she was pressed up along a beam. 

He made the first move this time, claiming control of her lips so she didn’t have another second to think. 

She was grateful, because she was instead suddenly focused on the intense heat rippling through her body. Starting with her lips and traveling downward, her nipples tingled, pebbling in want before the serge roamed lower, pulsing between her thighs. 

They broke apart far too soon for her liking- her licking her lips unconsciously and sucking in a shaky breath of air. And him- blinking as though he were making sure she was real- that she was indeed, actually there. 

“Well?”

“Well what?” she asked in a wobbly tone that betrayed her, showing him just how affected she was. 

“Mm. You don’t look convinced enough to me.” His nose nudged hers affectionately, one big hand curled low on her hip, the other cupping her cheek while his tail slid around her calf. 

“No?” 

“Not even a little.”

And instead of stopping him like the sane part of her mind was nagging her to, she greedily leaned in for another kiss, this time pressing up onto the balls of her feet, desperately seeking more.

Before she could complain about how freakishly tall he was, Aonung was hoisting her up. She squealed in surprise as strong arms hooked under her thighs, but she wasn’t complaining, and in response her legs wrapped around his back, encouraging his actions. 

Teeth and tongues and lips moving in sync, their kiss intensified. 

Aonung swallowed her shocked gasp when he bit her bottom lip, his low growl of appreciation sending a deadly vibration straight to her core. 

Eywa. The man could kiss. 

Back arching, her hips bucked on their own accord. Once, twice and then she was grinding, cursing in annoyance when there was no friction found. 

“Aonung.” 

“Mhmm? Frustrated, gorgeous?” he murmured in taunt against her throat, biting a bruising kiss that would no doubt leave a mark. “Need something?” 

She smacked him with her tail. “Such a damn skxawng.” 

“A skxawng, who has you making some very pretty sounds,” he teased in agreement, licking her pulse. 

As if proving his point, when kissed her again, she moaned into his mouth- a sweet melodic hum that had him straining in his loincloth. He loved that sound. He wanted to hear it again and again. 

His hands roamed. Finding and squeezing her ass, he encouraged her frenzied efforts to turn into a slow, needy rhythm- her core rubbing against his hard stomach. Eywa. Her moans were driving him wild! Everything about her drove him wild. 

“Can you come like this?”

“What? N-no, I don’t thi- ah!” She yelped when she was suddenly dropped- core landing directly onto a thigh… a thick, toned thigh. “Ohh, Great Mother…”

“Just Aonung will do,” he quipped, reaching behind to tug her tail. 

She mewled sweetly as he moved her hips for her-  his thigh hard and warm and pressing up against her clit fucking deliciously. 

“How about now, gorgeous? Think you can come for me?” 

“Maybe, I-” She hissed at the sting of his nipping teeth. “Maybe I can.”

“That sounds like a yes to me.”

Like clay in his hands, he manipulated her to his liking. With her feet dangling off the ground and hips and ass in his hands, Aonung did all the work- playing her like an instrument.  

Kisses sinful and bruising and clit dragging just right, the build up was fast, blinding, intense. 

It was mildly terrifying to a degree when the cusp of her orgasm began to swell- panic taking hold of her. “Ohhh- Ngh. I’m gonna c- Wait, wait!” 

Aonung kissed her, effectively distracting her panic away. Her body shook beneath his hands, trembling as she broke. She came with sweet, sweet noises that mingled with his own soft groans.

As she caught her breath, he peppered her with gentle pecks- lips, chin and down the length of her neck, toward those little breasts he wanted to lavish.

When clarity emerged from the fog in her brain, she hid her face, palms muffling her disbelieving moan. “I can’t believe I just did that,” she groaned, shuddering from a rippling aftershock. 

“Do you normally not come or something?” Aonung asked, shifting her onto his other thigh. He grunted when he accidentally brushed against her. His poor dick hadn’t had a woman's touch in over a year now, no surprise it was painfully begging for her attention. 

She peered up at him incredulously. “I come just fine, you skxawng,” she snapped, unsure whether she should laugh or not. “But I’m talking about the fact that we- ”

“And when you say just fine. Is this by yourself? With someone els- wait, wait… Do you have a playmate I don’t know about?” 

His teasing tone had turned into one of jealousy and his expression was so serious that it made Lýn burst into laughter. She had a feeling he was doing it all on purpose- and it was effective. He probably knew she would be overthinking and panicking over what they’d just done. 

“Aonung, you’re incorrigible.”

“And you,” he hummed, pecking her lips between his words, “are gorgeous and sweet and oh so dangerously, deliciously tempting.”

She melted and returned his gentle affections, lips grazing the corners of his mouth before kissing his chin.

“Still haven’t answered my question though.” 

“Aonung. You know my routines better than anyone else by now. I work all day and then all my free time is taken up by you or my family. How could you possibly think I have the time for a-”

Rendered speechless by his lips for the umpteenth time, she giggled at his eagerness. Their kiss this time was a playful fight for dominance, full of nips and teasing bites and wandering hands.   

So entangled and focused on each other, they both took no notice when a poor, none the wiser, Bwena came strolling in. Her arms were laden with baskets of produce- freshly caught fish, fruit, and seeded grain all collected from the village’s communal stock and some rare herbs she’d bartered for with passing a trader from the Tipani clan. 

A soft gasp and quiet call to the Great Mother fell from her lips at the sight of Aonungs back- and the legs wrapped around it. “Oh Eywa…” Then, she admonished a rather loud, “Ayelýn!” 

“Sa'nok!” Ayelýn squeaked- a squeal following when Aonung almost dropped her. 

They scrambled to right themselves and Aonung thanked all that had power in the universe that his raging bulge had simmered to hideable and unnoticeable. He still purposely kept Ayelýn to his front and was able to discreetly adjust himself. He very much did not need to scare the poor unsuspecting woman any further. 

From the threshold, Bwena shook her head disappointedly. “I must say, I am very surprised at the two of you. Now I understand that you are young and in love-” 

“Love?!” Both Lýn and Aonung sputtered at the same time. 

Bwena paid them no mind, going on with her lecture, diplomatically. “-but please do have some respect for our home. What would your poor father say if he found you like this? Courting is a sacred time between and man and a-”

“Sa'nok, please!”

“-woman. It is the nurturing of your connection. Spiritually and emotionally, all with the aid of the Great and Mighty Eywa.”

“Sa'nok!” Ayelýn whined, utterly humiliated now. She stepped forward to take a basket from her mother’s arms- Aonung following her lead to help as well. “Trust me- there will not be a repeat of that- any of it. Ever! You have nothing to worry about.”

“Ever Ever?!” Aonung worriedly asked in alarm. He grunted an, “ooff” when he earned a smack of a tail from the woman he so loved to rile.

Seemingly recovered from her shock, Bwena disposed of the rest of her items, humming without a care as Aonung and Ayelýn held a hushed debate filled with wild gestures behind her back.

“Not happening!”

“Are you kidding me?!”

“We never talk about it again, agreed?”

“No. No, agreed.”

They straightened up quickly and planted neutral expressions on their faces when her mother spoke again.

“Aonung dear, will you and Khal be staying for tonight’s feast?” Bwena enquired as she collected items from around the marui in an empty basket. 

“No. He said was just leaving, sa'nok.” 

“Actually, we would love to stay for tonight’s feast.” 

“Wonderful! You can help me and my sister scale some fish then. Come along!”

“You are exhausting,” Ayelýn hissed under her breath when her mother’s back was turned again. 

“And you love it,” he grinned, smacking a kiss on her cheek and tugging at her tail before cheerfully following after her mother. 

~

Drench.

Scrub.

Scrub.

Scrub.

Rinse.

Wring.

Repeat. 

A cheerful hum accompanied the monotonous task Lýn was conducting. With a wet smack, she heaved a mat into her basket and reached for another from the unclean pile. 

“T’is a beautiful melody you sing, sweet girl,” Slwen voiced from across the marui, her own hands busily working at a massive tapestry. 

“Oh.” A blush tinted Lýn’s cheeks. “I hadn’t realized I was so loud.” 

“Nonsense. The louder the better for my aging ears. My Lýn singing is good. Means you’re happy,” the old woman said with a knowing smile. “It’s that boy, isn’t it?” 

Ayelýn began to shake her head. “No-”

“Bah! Who’d have thought little Ayelýn would woo the heart of the chief’s son.”

“His name is Aonung,” Lýn corrected.

Spending as much time as she had with the man she was pretending with, led to learning a great deal about him. 

The one thing that stood out most of all to her was that he despised being referred to as, “the chief’s son.” He hadn’t outright said this to her, but she’d picked up on it. And the one time she tried to bring it up with him, the skxawng brushed it off with a half assed, “I’m not just the chief’s son.” 

Since then she was awfully protective and found herself correcting people whenever they referred to him as such. 

“Ahh. My apologies, sweet girl. Carry on singing about your Anoung,” Slwen teased as she got to her feet, heaving her overfilled basket onto her hip with surprising strength and leaving the marui before Lýn could protest. 

“I was not singing because of him,” she muttered to an empty pod. 

‘Liar, liar,’ her mind mocked. 

And as if she’d somehow summoned him, he came strolling in a few seconds later- or should she say was being pulled. 

“Ask her! Ask her, puh-lease, Aonung!” Kaiiff begged as he yanked on the man’s hand. “She’ll say yes to you.”

Aonung chuckled but put up no fight at the youngling’s tugging. “Kaii, she never says yes to me.” 

“What is this about now? And why are you here? Don’t you have training with your team today?” 

“Well hello to you too, gorgeous,” he snarked sarcastically. “Can’t I just drop by for a visit?”

She plopped her final piece onto the rest of her clean pile and raised a suspicious brow at him. 

“My team and I were nearby and I thought I’d be nice for them to take a little break.” He nodded towards her brother. “Kaiiff spotted me on the beach and we had a nice chat.” 

Aonung beat her to it when she attempted to lift her basket, hoisting it with an ease she envied. It also made his muscles pop and- oh fuck. He definitely caught her ogling him. 

When their eyes met, his expression was molten and a hint of something mischievous played on his lips.

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” 

Kaiiff frowned up at the two of them, his little head shifting left and right as they just… stood there… staring at each other. 

‘Were they having a staring competition?’ he wondered. 

They were so weird. 

Thankfully his sister seemed to lose, because a second later she was marching right out of the marui and Aonung and Kaiiff had no choice but to quickly follow her out into the sun. 

“Aonung said I can go with him to explore the Sulruck Cove tomorrow,” Kaii announced. 

“Is that right?” Lýn asked, striding towards the village’s drying stones. 

The stones in question were massive boulders that had been scraped and filed till smooth. They held heat well and served as the perfect tool to dry large quantities of laundered items. 

“Yes, he really did say,” the eight year old confirmed. “Can I go, Lýn? Please, please?”

Ayelýn grabbed the first article from the top of the basket in Aonung's arms. “Sulruck Cove? Isn’t that past srakat infested waters?” she asked with a frown as she laid it out on a hot stone. 

“It’s safe this time of year,” Aonung shrugged. 

Dropping the basket onto the sand and lifting a wet mat, he spread it out on the same stone as Lýn’s, batting her hands away when she tried to tell him he didn’t have to help her. 

“They’ve migrated to the southern seas. Mating season,” he explained, laying flat another article. “It’d be perfectly safe.” 

“Seeee, perfectly safe,” Kaii echoed, that boxy grin of his wide and infectious. 

“Mmm. I don’t know, little brother. I’m not sure sa'nok would approve if she were here.” 

“She would! She definitely would, Lýn!” 

Their parents had journeyed to Jer’hxen village to visit their father’s family for two weeks. The birth of his sister’s child was due anytime now and so Kaiiff had been left in Ayelýn’s care. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m taking Khalhan as well.”

“Khalhan?!” Kaii exclaimed, stepping out of the way when Anoung hauled up another mat. 

At this point, Lýn had been practically shooed away and had no choice but to watch him do her duty. 

“Yep,” Aonung confirmed with a smile, ruffling Kaii’s hair when he stood straight. He’d completed all her work for the day without realizing it. “Lo’ak and Rotxo’s going too,” he told Lýn. 

“Oh alright, go have your fun,” she said, giving in. 

“Wa-hooo! Jes! Thank you, thank you!” Kaiiff jumped happily, tail flickering rapidly behind him. He squeezed his sister in a speedy hug- slim arms around her waist before he was dashing to do the same to a chuckling Aonung. 

“I'm gonna go tell Talu! Bye!” he yelled, hugging Aonung one last time for good measure. 

“Think you just made his year,” Lýn said. She went to get her empty basket but again, he beat her to it- head ducking with an awfully cute tilt to find her eyes. 

His gaze made her pause- and that fluttery, swooping sensation in the pit of her stomach came to life again. 

“Behave,” she said, reading his mind all too clearly- though the near blushing smile that broke through her lips made him grin in return.  

“I didn’t even say anything, gorgeous. Don’t know what you’re thinking but my thoughts are all innocent,” he said in a faux serious tone. “Come on.” He linked their fingers with his free hand and walked her back to the washing marui- stares, like always following them as they did. 

The Na’vi sure loved their gossip. 

Stopping at the threshold, he pulled her palm up for inspection. Running his thumb across her blisters, he tsked at the sight of the broken skin. 

“So I might have had an ulterior motive for venturing this far out.”

“I knew it.” 

“My parents are hosting guests from Tipani next week. My mother said you’re invited to come.” 

“Did she?” Lýn’s tail twitched- a nervous tick that Aonung picked up on. 

Arm around her waist, he tugged her to his chest and she went willingly. 

“Yes, but don’t worry, I’m planning on keeping you to myself all night. These things can get terribly boring.”

“Ah. So I’m to be used for your entertainment then?”

“Guilty,” he grinned. “Also…”

“Also…?”

He shifted and looked away. “Are you busy tonight? I thought we could- we could maybe do something- if you want.”

Was he…?

“Do something… As in, just you and me?”

“Mhm.”

“Oh- um, yeah. I’d like tha- Shoot. I can’t. I’ve got Kaii, remem-”

“Sweet Kaii will stay with me tonight,” a no nonsense voice called out. 

Ayelýn and Aonung blinked at each other, then simultaneously peered into the marui to find-

“Slwen!” Lýn admonished. “Were you seriously eavesdropping? I thought you were hard of hearing?!” 

The elder huffed. “I’m going deaf, girl. Not blind. Now say your goodbyes to your lover and come help me finish this.” 

Shoulders shaking and closed fist over mouth, Aonung was trying hard to contain himself. He finally broke, laughter escaping him as he walked them both out of Slwen’s line of sight- tucked in the shadow of a jutting mangrove root. 

Ayelýn giggled as well and when they finally sobered up, eyes unable to stop staring at each other, he kissed her cheek sweetly, making her breath hitch. 

Lingering precariously close, he waited, and at her little nod of silent consent, his lips met hers for a searing kiss. 

They reluctantly broke apart and with the promise that he would see her later, he left. 

~

Neither of them questioned or acknowledged what was happening between the two of them- both too afraid of what the other would say.

~

Back out on the beach where his waiting team lingered, Aonung avoided Lo’ak’s annoying, knowing smirk. 

“Shut up, forest boy,” he gritted, hailing his skimwing.

Lo’ak cackled. “I didn’t even say anything, fishlips, though you sure look like you had a grand time during your break… Should I tell the lovely Ayelýn that you never let us take breaks?”

“Lo’ak.”

“Or that we never travel this far out for a simple training lesson?”

 “Lo’ak, I’m not going to warn you again.”

“Yep… Shutting up.”

~

Not until they had almost made it back to Awa’atlu and with relatively safe distance between him and Aonung, did Lo’ak tauntingly call out-

“Sooo, did you invite your gorgeous mate to be to my party?”

~

Hello friends! 💛

Don't know why I was so nervous to post this part lol

So originally, I planned for this part to be a bit more angsty, but then all that fluff and pop of spice happened... These two are just so surprisingly fun to write.

You'll find in my works I love a good embarrassing moment lol. Bwena walking in on them was a last minute insert- I couldn't help myself.

Anywhooo- As always, please let me know what you think.

Also I'm giving you guys the heads up, I have a hectic schedule this week, so I can't say when exactly the last chapter will be out.

And finally, feel free to let me know if there's anything you'd like to see happen before this mini series come to an end.

Spoiler alert- Ayelýn has some things to say to Ronal... and we have some visitors.

~

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