#maybe if I keep these monthly notes up

[thecherrygod]

man i just saw a video that was like. bullet journaling but it was meant to be very basic and simple. and it genuinely made no sense to me

[meownotgood]

WEEK ONE — masturbation + aki hayakawa, 18+, gn!reader, jerking off, pillow humping, sexual fantasies, edging, a hint of degradation, aki just can't help his feelings for you

kinktober masterlist

Everyone knows Aki has a crush on you. 

It's as obvious as it could possibly be. He's always staring, always coming up with any excuse he can to slip away from work for a while and come talk to you. He leaves frequent gifts on your work desk: notes in his handwriting, flowers or snacks or souvenirs he got for you from Hokkaido. 

He's unusually awkward when your name gets brought up in conversation, he's jittery whenever you're around — The last time you tagged along on the division's monthly drinking night, Aki was practically a mess, choosing to drown himself in as much alcohol as he had the pocket change to order, simply to keep from losing it because you'd sat next to him. Of course you had to sit right next to him. 

You've kept him infatuated for forever now. The thing is, Aki doesn't care if he's obvious. You're so pretty, he thinks. He's thought so from the very beginning. You're pretty and interesting and smart and it isn't his fault; he really can't control how his heart flutters and his head goes dizzy every time you talk to him, it just happens. You just have that effect on him. 

He can't help but feel shy every time you call his name in that sweet voice of yours; so polite, sticking to Hayakawa-sir even though he's told you before that you can use his first name. You grin every time, and you explain, But you get embarrassed when I call you Hayakawa. He can't help it when his face turns red all the way to the tips of his ears because you're teasing him, giving him a hard time for how stuttery he's getting. 

You were particularly teasing today. Aki knew you must've been in a good mood from the moment he arrived at headquarters. You held him by his arm, you cooed praises into his ear for how hard he's been working lately. Told him if he ever needed a break, he could come to your office any time he wants to and you'd give him a massage or make him some coffee. You insist. 

Maybe that's why he can't sleep right now. 

He's tried to get some sleep this time, he seriously has. He hates when he's like this. When he finds he's unable to stop thinking about you, he'll try everything he can to wind down and make himself forget. He'll go for a run to try and get his energy out, take an ice cold shower, smoke until his lungs are burning to attempt to quell the noise in his mind, and yet tonight, none of that has worked. 

Nothing can chase away those thoughts of you, those memories of your pretty face and your teasing hands. Nothing convinces his heart to stop pounding within his chest. Aki tosses, turns. His sheets rustle and his mattress shifts underneath his weight. 

It's a real conundrum. He's felt hot all over ever since he climbed into bed. His face is warm, he's practically sweating. Turning again, he takes a quick glance at his alarm clock, the screen reads 11:54 which is several hours since he first attempted to sleep and a few minutes since he last checked it. 

You were touching him so much today. So much, more than he's used to, even for you. No-one else ever touches him like that, nobody ever hugs him, holds his hand, makes him feel wanted. He wonders if you know how worked up you get him, if you can tell his heart is racing, or know the reason why he's shifting is because his slacks are getting tight. 

11:56, now. Aki's head is spinning. 

This is stupid, wrong of him, even. He's not super close to you. You're just one of the Public Safety office workers. If he wants to be technical, he could be considered your superior, actually. A superior fantasizing about one of the little devil hunter assistants. He's terrible. 

Aki can't help but yearn to feel your touch elsewhere, everywhere. He needs it, needs you, warmth buds in his core and there's a steady ache between his legs. He was short on breath before, when you'd grabbed his arm and pressed real close, and even now, just from thinking about it, he's — 

Fuck. Aki twists, rolling from his side onto his back, he rubs his knotted up temple with his finger and his thumb. It's too much. You're going to be the death of him. 

His breath comes out heavy and shaking and loud in his ears. His chest rises up and down, his trembling fingers slip under the blanket, then underneath the waistband of his sweats, and his heart begins to pound faster in anticipation, hammering against his ribs.

He hesitates for a second. In the end, he gives in like he always does. Shame pools thick in the pit of his stomach, but it isn't enough to stop him from working his hand down — His palm brushes the soft fabric of his briefs, he gropes the shape of his cock through his boxers and he's already stiff. He sighs, he lets his head toss back. 

You'll forgive him for this, right? You'd forgive him for getting hard when all you did was barely touch him, and for using thoughts of you to get himself off, wouldn't you? He's just so lonely, so stressed out, that's all this is. You have to forgive him, you have to understand. Aki swiftly decides you would, because he can't wait any longer; he's been needy like this for hours upon hours now and at this point, it's far too late for him to stop. 

Aki pushes the blanket away, he tugs his sweats and his briefs down to his thighs at the same time, he hisses when his cock comes free. Slowly, he wraps his palm around, and he brings his thumb to the head, rubs it slow, feels himself throb steadily in his hand. 

He's already dripping, precum beads in droplets at his slit and dribbles down to dirty his knuckles, each of his fingers. There's wetness sticking to his palm. A disgusting sound echoes as he pumps himself, up and down nice and careful, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth. 

It feels so fucking good. Aki groans in pleasure, immediately forgets how perverted this is, he closes his eyes, thinks of you. He isn't the type to do this, he's never felt this way about anyone, he doesn't even touch himself because he's never had a reason to — but you've changed everything. 

You're the reason for this, and when he's got his cock in his fist, you're all he can think about. He imagines your touch, your voice, your warm breath on his skin. Aki tries to picture how it'd feel to kiss you, to press his lips on yours and have your tongue in his mouth. How it'd feel to hold you, to have you be the one to jerk him off. 

Your hands are so perfect; Aki's memorized the way they look, the way they fold when you're writing or grabbing his arm or holding your drink. They're dainty compared to his, they'd probably feel softer, so much gentler. Ever since a few weeks ago, he's fallen into the habit of using his left hand to touch himself as opposed to his right. It's clumsier this way, but it's easier to imagine his hand is someone else's, yours. 

Your soft hand around his dick, stroking him just like this — Aki doesn't know if he'd be able to last. If he'd even be able to look at you, let alone talk, let alone do anything but plead your name.

Your fingers are so pretty, you'd complimented him once, Aki remembers how you sat next to him and intently watched him sign paperwork like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He'd shaken his head and written you off then, but he wants to know if you'd compliment him again, if you'd still think so when his fingers are cradling your face or pushing past your lips. 

Would you still think he's as pretty — his fingers wrapped around his cock, his hair down and how you like it, his earrings you say you like so much glinting in the low light — if you saw him like this? 

He wonders if you'd tease him the same as you do at the office. Oh, Mister Hayakawa, you've been wanting this for so long, haven't you? You're so fucking dirty. How long have you been jerking yourself off every night to the thought of me? So damn needy, you just want me to take care of you, huh? 

Yeah, he's dirty, he's rocking his hips into his grip, he's whining and sighing soft gasps of pleasure, louder than he probably should be. He's pumping his fist faster as he pictures your face down between his legs; you'd look precious with your hair tucked back, your lips would feel as plush as he'd imagined and you'd stare up at him with such an innocent expression, your eyes practically sparkling as you take his cock in your mouth. 

He can't take it. Aki pants with weight behind every breath, he twists his wrist and squeezes, pumps even faster and thinks he just might lose his mind right here — and then, he takes his hand away. 

He lets go, his dick falls against his stomach and he keeps one hand in his hair and the other beside him, despite how badly his nerves are screaming for him to keep touching. He allows his breath to even out, stares at the ceiling and waits for his mind to clear.

He doesn't want to cum yet. Not when it's only been a few minutes. If he cums now, he'll probably get too exhausted to cum a second time. So he can't, not right now, not when he has more he wants to think about. 

Twisting over on his side, Aki brushes his bangs away when they fall messily around his face. He presses his palm to his forehead, feeling the sweat trickling from his skin. His fingers twitch. He debates what he's about to do for a few seconds.

He shouldn't, it'll be a hassle. But when he knows how good it's going to feel, he can't resist. Hurrying, he lifts his head and grabs his pillow from underneath, he adjusts, burying his face in the sheets when it starts to feel warmer. He situates himself on his stomach, pillow firm between his legs. 

Deep, slow rolls of his hips cause him to forget any of the sense he was still holding onto. He exhales hard, shakes even harder. Aki fists the sheets in a tight hand, he leans his head into his forearm, he grinds his aching cock against his pillow until his thighs are beginning to hurt.

If he was more confident, confident enough to tell you how he feels, maybe he wouldn't be in this mess. Maybe if you knew, you'd let him fold you over his bed and fuck you just like how he's been dreaming of, slowly and dizzyingly tender, enough to make him forget about everything else. Maybe. If he's good. God, does he even deserve it? 

Either way, it doesn't matter what he wants. He'll do whatever the hell you ask him to, whatever you'd be willing to give him he'd be happy with — He'd be content just fucking the space between your thighs, or having you talk to him while he gets himself off and humps his pillow like a pathetic idiot; anything you want, whatever you want. As long as you're there, as long as he can hear your voice and feel your touch, and not be so alone. 

The smooth cotton of his pillowcase is slick and wet with his precum. His cock is throbbing incessantly, pleasure spreads through his entire body and he doesn't care that his mattress is squeaking, that he's losing rhythm. He breathes heavy with every rut of his hips and imagines you're here, you're beneath him. 

Arms strung around him tight, you'd lock eyes with him and he wouldn't dare to look away. Feels so good, you're perfect, Aki, you'd praise, and he loves your praises, You wanna cum? Oh, but you can hold out for a little longer for me, can't you? 

Aki shivers. Of course. If you're the one asking him, he just has to. Especially when you call him Aki.

Aki, that's it, keep going. You're so sweet, so good for me. I belong to you. I'm all yours, forever and ever. Does that make you happy?

You're his, all his. You'd sound so perfect moaning his name as he bullies his cock into you. His first name, his and no-one else's, no extra politeness or honorifics. You'd say it softly as he slides inside, say it when you're begging him to fill you deeper, repeat it when you're telling him he's got to beg for you if he wants to finish. 

C'mon, Aki. Cum for me. Give me all of it. 

Yeah, Aki mumbles out loud to himself, his voice is breaking, he thrusts his hips with reckless abandon, I'll give you everything, oh, f-fuck, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum… 

He shoves his face into the bed as much as he can manage to muffle his noise, his fragile moans and loud whimpers. His shoulders tense, muscles aching. A few more shallow movements and he's done; he chants your name over and over again as he finishes, cumming all over his pillow and his sheets, thick ropes of white dirtying the fabric, making a mess. 

Falling limp, Aki lays like that for a while, catching his breath. Everything begins to fade, working through to tiredness. He should get up and shower, wash his sheets and his pillowcase, but he's so exhausted he can't even manage to move. 

He feels warm all over again, just less intense this time. Aki realizes he was saying your name as he came. Embarrassing. He can only hope he wasn't loud enough for anyone to hear. 

He'll fall asleep now, at least, with warm thoughts of you to fill his head. A date with you would be nice sometime. Nothing too crazy. He'd take you anywhere you wanted to. He also wouldn't mind taking you back to his apartment and making you something for dinner, whatever you'd like. 

If you were here now, he'd hold you as close as he can get you, breathing soft and slow while drifting off silently, his arms wrapped secure around your waist.

He's almost asleep. But —

Ah. He'd forgotten he has to work at the office tomorrow. So he's going to have to face you, first thing in the morning. 

The next time he sees you, he doubts he'll be able to do much talking. But he'll get busier soon, there's a lot of devil hunting missions coming up. Who knows when Aki is going to see you next, so if he doesn't tell you his feelings soon, when will he? 

He's decided. Tomorrow, he's going to ask you out. 

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) you don't run away ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ when he leaves the door unlocked but you don't leave  ヾ

OTSEVEN 엔하이픈 ・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ yandere ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎ ‎n/a ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. yan!enha where reader actually doesnt leave when they get the chance and enha praises them for it 😓

「 ୨୧ author note 」 enjoy it my love <3 !

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

heeseung did this many times before especially when he first took you , it soon became a game to him , he'll keep everything unlocked and watch you through the cameras shuffling to get out as quick as possible , only to be unable to leave do the front door locked , laughing as he watched you break down crying — so when you don't try to escape , instead you stay put on the bed , he gets kinda confuse? why aren't you playing his game? did you finally give up. either way he's enjoying it , he finally broke you , now he just has to find a way to play with you.

"you're learning baby , that's a good girl."

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

he was confused because why did you want to leave in the first place? he gave you everything you wanted , you should be happy , but he digresses. when he accidentally leaves the door open , he fully believes that you'll leave , but he isn't worried , he has you tracked — but when he goes to check the tracker; you're home. so he checks the camera to confirm it and it checks out. when he comes home he goes straight to your room where you're waiting. "you're still here?" you're confused. "where would i be?"

"nothing just keep this up , and i'll take you out on a nice date outside."

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

he was freaking the fuck out on the way home , ever scenario running through his. you're not there, you've left him and you aren't coming back; how could he be so fucking stupid and leave the door unlocked , now you're not there , what is he gonna do ? he's gonna kill himself if you aren't there. pushing the door open , tears in his eyes. "jake!" you jumped in fear , you were still there in the same clothes from when left. "you okay?" you get up , wiping the tears from his face. "did something happen?" he lets out a sigh of relief. "you're here." you smiled. "of course , why wouldn't i be?" he shakes his head smiling.

"come on , let's lay down baby , let me hold you you're so good."

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

he's pissed because he knows you're probably gone , he forgot to lock the door on his rush out that morning and he couldn't go back home , he was fully prepared to come home to you gone , and he was already planning what he was gonna do to you once he got you back — the house is quiet which doesn't ease his worry , making his way to the room , basically kicking the door open , you jumped at the sudden surprise. "you scared me." stomping over to you , you don't seem to have any marks or anything indicating you tried to leave. "where have you been all day?" you laughed. "here silly , where would i go?" he looked at you confused. "you didn't leave at all?" you shook your head. "you told me to never leave , why would i leave when you said no?" he nodded. "i missed you." he couldn't smile because he didn't want to give you the wrong idea.

"i'll take the day off , take you somewhere outside, this won't be an everyday thing , if you're good we can make it monthly."

﹙ 𐙚 : sunoo﹚ .ᐟ

he's elated when he finds you right where he left you after he forgot to tie you up; this means you love him now , and you won't leave. he's so giddy he's dropping his stuff , running to you , hugging you , making you surprised. "what's going on?" he felt you pat his back. "did something happen, are you okay?" he nodded , with a huge smile on his face. "you stayed , you really stayed and I didn't have to tie you up , this means you love me now right?" you nodded. "of course I do." he squeals in excitement.

"if you're good maybe we can go up , only if you promise to stay by my side."

﹙ 𐙚 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ

he just wants to see what you do; keeping all the doors unlocked , watching over the camera to see what you do. he smirks when he sees you go to the door like you always do , checking to see if it's unlocked , he's so ready for you to open the door , of course the front door you won't be unlocked but it would be fun to watch you cry in defeat — but you don't open it , instead you just sit back down on the bed and continue on with what you're doing; he's confused , so he waits , keeps watching you through out the day , and you don't do anything about the door. when he comes home he asked you. "why didn't you leave today?" he said , you shrugged. "i didn't want to , i like it here." he just smiles , patting your head.

"good girl."

﹙ 𐙚 : ni-ki﹚ .ᐟ

you're his and you have no choice but to stay and if he has to hit you or tie you down then so be it , but you staying at your own free will is just less work for him — why does he need to praise you , this is what you're supposed to be doing; but then he sees you cooking and cleaning up for him and he has a change of heart , coming home , just walking through the unlocked doors to where you were waiting for him. "you're back." you give him food , which he makes you confirm that it isn't poisoned cause he still is paranoid. "it's good." he says flatly.

"you can't leave but tell me what you want and i'll bring it back for you , since you did all this."

©LUVYENI

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Code of Conduct 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work. 

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“Mr. Rogers’ office. This is Rosie, how can I hel--” 

“Where is he?” Peggy’s voice cuts over your own. 

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Rogers, he’s currently in a meeting--” 

“Get him.” 

“Mrs.--” 

“Don’t argue with me. Go get him. Are you not his assistant?” She challenges brusquely. 

Her accent adds to the sharpness of her words. Her curt demeanour is a stark contrast to her husband. Your boss is always amiable, accommodating even, but the few times you’ve dealt with his wife have been similarly tense. You put a smile on so she can’t hear your anxiety. 

“Of course, Mrs. Rogers,” you preen, “I’ll put you on a quick hold.” 

“No, you will get him. No hold.” 

You suck in a sigh and hold your breath in your chest, “of course.” 

You set the phone down. You don’t see how her hearing your desktop will be any better but you wouldn’t want to irritate her further. It must be urgent. 

You stand and smooth out your dress. You step out from behind your desk, digging your nails into your palms as you ball your fists tight. You get nervous about most things. Answering the phone took your months to get used to and even now you tend to fumble over your words. 

You go to the door and brace yourself. You don’t know why you expect Mr. Rogers to be upset. He’s never been anything close to rude. Maybe short in times of stress but not unpleasant. You knock and wait as you twiddle your fingers against your striped pleats. 

It isn’t Mr. Rogers who answers by Mr. Barnes. You give a sheepish smile, “excuse me, doll.” 

He steps past you and you bid him a good day. He leaves without further courtesy and Mr. Rogers calls your name from within, “need something?” He asks. 

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Rogers is on the phone.” 

He doesn’t seem happy about that. His cheek dimples and he nods, wiggling his pen at you, “patch her through.” 

You go back to your desk and pick up the receiver, “hello, Mrs. Rogers, he’s available now--” 

“I don’t want to talk to you, honey. Where is my husband?” 

You transfer her without another word. Phew. You almost feel bad for your boss as you hear him pick up in his office. His tone is low and dull. 

You try not to overhear, letting his conversation drone into a buzz. There’s enough work to be done without worrying about his personal life. Your own afterhours concerns are more than concerning. You wouldn’t say you have much going on and that’s the problem. It’s moment like those that ease your envy of others’ full plates. 

You haven’t seen the girls lately. The group chat’s been quiet but you suppose you could go ahead and say hi. Your weekly cocktails petered out to biweekly, then monthly, and now you can’t remember the last time you let go with a mimosa. 

You peek over your desk and back at your screen. It’s not only on them to keep things going. You pick up your phone and open the chat. The last message is a meme Elfie sent about printers. You shake your head and send a little waving sticker, keying in a message. 

‘Long time no see! I’m in need of drinks. Anyone free? When’s best? Hope you’re all taking care.’ 

You’re professional tone shines through even on WhatsApp. It’s a bit lame but you’re an entirely different person in text. Most people are surprised to meet the mousy secretary hiding behind her screen after the lively back and forth in Outlook. 

You set your phone down and try not to stare at it. A reply never comes while you’re waiting for it, nor does water boil when you’re watching it. As you click around and try to remember where you were, the silence sinks in. Your realisation brings your eyes up as quickly as Mr. Rogers shadow. 

You bat your lashes at him in surprise, “need something, sir?” 

He gives a half-smile, the type weighed down by disappointment. He sighs and crosses his arms, leaning on the door frame, “you hungry?” 

“Um, well, it’s only eleven,” you shrug. 

“Mm, yeah,” he unfolds one arm to rub his neck, “I’m restless. You feel like getting lunch early?” 

“Sure, I can run out and grab you something,” you stand eagerly. 

“No, uh,” he drops his arm back over his other, “together. I had a reservation for me and Peggy but she canceled. I’d hate to inconvenience the restaurant and I just can’t sit and mope in my office.” 

“Oh, okay, I guess that works...” 

“Do you need to ask your boss?” He scoffs. 

You laugh at his joke, “do I?” 

He smiles, a real smile and drops his arms, “my treat. You know what, you earned it. You work so hard around here, a little employee appreciation is overdue.” 

“That’s so nice,” you chime, “uh, sir, I... I should leave an away message, should I?” 

“Oh, who cares, come on.” 

“Well, I mean...” 

“Ah, I get it, boss is a real hard ass,” he winks. 

“Sir,” you giggle nervously and teethe your lip. He watches your mouth. 

“You can catch up later. Come on, I haven’t played hooky in years.” 

“Hooky?” You stammer. 

He laughs, “a goody two shoes. It’s why I hired you but it’s okay to let loose once in a while.” 

“I know, Mr. Rogers, it’s just... it’s work.” 

“Too much of it and you’ll turn into me,” he huffs. “Please, I’m sure your husband would hate if you were never home. Never answered the phone.” 

“If I had one, probably,” you blurt out then look away shyly. 

“Really? I thought...” he begins and shakes his head, “doesn’t matter. I’ll grab my jacket and we’ll go. I missed breakfast.” 

“Um, sure, sir,” you agree and put your hand on the phone. 

When he turns, you look down. Missie sent a reply; ‘please, drinks are required!’ Ooh! Yay. 

[cloudcountry]

just realized i NEVER posted this to tumblr??? HELLO??? if it wasn't for ao3 this shit would have been lost media because i literally cannot find it in my google docs??? HELP???

ANYWAYS!! WELCOME TO WHAT THE TWST BOYS LEFT YOU WITH AFTER YOU BROKE UP

its bittersweet. you guys broke up on good terms. post-formatting auburn here and omfg what was i THINKING this shit HURTED. OW. CRITICAL HIT I NEED A HEALER. FUCK.

Riddle Rosehearts leaves you with an appreciation for learning, a strong sense of awe at the bookshelves lining the walls of NRC’s library. He leaves you with a pen, tucked at the bottom of your backpack that you forget about until a late night study session. You find it and giggle, remembering the time he gave it to you when yours ran out of ink, and you begin to take notes with the red-rose ink.

Trey Clover leaves you with a sense of nurture. You pick up cues from people that you never would have seen before and know exactly how to act, and it isn’t until you find yourself “babying” Ace that you step back and laugh. Of course Trey rubbed off on you, he always was taking care of you with nobody to help out him.

Cater Diamond leaves you with extensive knowledge of camera angles. When you’re taking pictures with your friends or just you, it's like you know exactly which filter would look best with every shot. Sometimes you’ll stumble upon a filter you only ever used on his pics, and you’re filled with a bittersweet happiness. Simple photo editing holds so many memories, and you can only hope he’s making new ones, too.

Deuce Spade leaves you with a motivation to protect yourself. When you started dating him all that time ago, he insisted on giving you some form of self defense lessons just so you could protect yourself. He made you more confident, even if he never knew it. You’ll always be thankful for the way he unknowingly made you stand up straighter, like you were proud to be yourself.

Ace Trappola leaves you with a lighter soul. He’s always been a goofy person, and you know full well that he’s never changed. He made you way more optimistic just by dealing with things the way he did, always being true to his heart no matter who he was speaking to. You always admired that about him, and it made you feel like you could be more like yourself even when he wasn’t there anymore.

Leona Kingscholar leaves you with a piece of his pride. He always told you to keep your head up especially when you’re scared half to death. You find yourself using his advice every time you face a situation you’d rather not be in, and slowly conquer everything that used to freak you out. You finally glow with the pride that you know he would have been so proud of if he was still with you, but you’re starting to think that maybe he’s proud of you anyway.

Ruggie Bucchi leaves you with a determination to constantly fight for better. You need to make the best of your circumstances, being transported to a world where you’re powerless with nothing but the shirt on your back. He’s taught you to be crafty and resourceful, and to never let yourself be taken advantage of. You can’t thank him enough...and really, you can’t anymore, but that’s okay.

Jack Howl leaves a carefully planned school year in his wake. You find yourself planning out your day, little events scribbled into your calendar and schedules created in the margins of your notebook. Jack had always reminded you of things and you wanted to let him know how much you valued his efforts to keep you on track, so you started writing down his schedules too. It isn’t until you flip back through your notebook to find older notes that you see “Track and Field Meet - 5pm” and feel a pang in your heart.

Azul Ashengrotto leaves you with a ton of home-economics knowledge. Long after you two have broken up, you still find yourself checking on your monthly expenses and tweaking your meal plans, and it isn’t until you’re laying in bed one night that you realize you wouldn’t be nearly as efficient as you are now if it wasn’t for your previous sweetheart.

Jade Leech leaves you with a fascination for the world around you. He took things that you didn’t think twice about and twisted them into beautiful sights, and you never quite looked at them the same way. It’s not a bad thing, it’s quite the opposite, actually. Your world has never been more beautiful, even if the boy that opened your eyes isn’t there to see it with you.

Floyd Leech leaves you with a restless need to do something. Sometimes, during your down time, you’ll set down your phone and start pacing around your room, wondering why your legs just can’t seem to sit still. Then something clicks—Floyd used to barge into your dorm and dance with you at random intervals, but he doesn’t do that as much anymore. Laughing to yourself, you slip on a coat and decide to take a walk—anything to get the fidgeting out of your system.

Kalim Al-Asim leaves you with a brighter smile and higher patience. You’d always had to chase after him on whatever misadventure he decided to go on that day, apologizing to Jamil with a wobbly smile on your face once the day was done. Kalim never failed to make things brighter, even your breakup. You two still hang out sometimes, but you aren’t as close as you used to be, even if the memories of your adventures remain.

Jamil Viper leaves you with some of his best recipes. It may seem silly or insignificant to anyone else, but you know exactly how much time he spent cooking and baking for Kalim and his entire dorm on a daily basis. He even found time to bring you and his club snacks occasionally. You still know how to make his favorite curry, and if a recipe calls for dates you scratch them out from the ingredients out of habit.

Vil Schoenheit leaves you feeling beautiful. He never once looked at you wrong, whether you had just woken up or had gotten into another mud fight with Grim or if you were wearing a swimsuit. There was nothing but love in his gaze and a reminder to keep your head up on his tongue, because in his eyes you were precious. Because to Vil, you were unapologetically beautiful (and you still are. You always will be.)

Rook Hunt leaves you with an eye for detail. After picking up on everything you did and telling you about every habit he examined, you became keenly aware of your habits and how to manage them. You’re far more observant when it comes to your own self care, and you know you wouldn’t be as diligent if it wasn’t for the insistence of your ex.

Epel Felmier leaves you with a love for nature. You’re hyper aware of how long it takes apple trees to grow and what you can do to help them along. You whisper to your plants now and sing little songs to them and you water them. Your friends have even started coming to you for pointers, and despite the fact that Epel isn’t your partner anymore, you refer them to him automatically.

Idia Shroud leaves you with an absurd amount of techy knowledge. With all the gadgets Ramshackle has because of him, you’re thankful he took the time to explain how they worked. The gifts he made for you almost make the fact that he had to end things with you because of his...family business and that you’ll likely never see him again easier to swallow.

Malleus Draconia leaves you with a greater love for the night sky. You had a person to share the sight of the stars with for once, someone who loved looking up at them just as much as you did. You can still feel the chill of his hand over yours as he reached for it, holding it like you were the most precious treasure of all. Now, when you look up at the stars, you feel a pain of longing in your chest. You miss him.

Lilia Vanrouge leaves you with knowledge of the worlds you’ll never see. You find yourself drawing parallels between this world, your world, and the mystical places Lilia used to talk about. Even Trein has been impressed by the knowledge you’ve displayed in his essays despite not being from this world, and you can only force a laugh.

Silver leaves you with a safety net, something you can use to calm down whenever. His childhood lullaby. He sang it for you time and time again when you were having trouble sleeping in an unfamiliar place when your anxiety got a bit too much. Whenever you have a nightmare now, you find yourself humming the old Briar Valley tune, in hopes that it will give you some comfort.

Sebek Zigvolt leaves you with a greater appreciation for reading (and a pile of bookmarks tucked in an old leather box he presented when he started “courting” you.) You still find yourself exiting Ramshackle on the weekends, and heading to that very same tree you two used to read under. There’s a part of you that wants to look for him, to check and see if he’s also heading to your tree, but you don’t.

[viennakarma]

Happiness is a butterfly

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: He wants you but he can't have you. But when a fatal crash happens, he realizes maybe he should just take the jump, before it's too late.

Word count: 6.4k

Tags: Female reader, teammate reader, smut, oral, angst, crash, very remorseful nano, cursing, mostly fernando pov, fernando is in denial, age gap (not defined), hurt/comfort, brief mention of Jules Bianchi, happy ending, not beta read

Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Notes: LISTEN I wish I could control my creative brain but I can’t. *taps mic* Ok, so, who's ready for our little monthly crying session? This actually came to me in a dream after I listened to Happiness is a butterfly, and I ended up incorporating some of the lyrics in the story. I was only contemplating writing this when Anon sent this request asking for angst after a big fight, and I thought it goes perfectly with what I had in mind.

Hope it's to your liking, Anon!

Find me on Twitter!

“Fernando,” You whispered like it wasn’t wrong, like his name was a prayer.

Fernando knew it was wrong, not only because you were a driver and his teammate, but also because you were way too young for him. But whenever you two were like that, you in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect.

Sometimes he wondered to himself if he took advantage of you. Because ever since you first met, you looked at him with big shiny eyes, like you were facing a hero. He knew you were a fan of his, but then again, most of the younger drivers were. But when you two became teammates and got closer, he’d notice how your eyes would find his first thing after entering any room. Whenever you two had chats alone, you’d smile at him in a specific way you didn’t smile at anyone else, blush creeping up your face.

It was so easy to be enchanted by you, by your kindness and willingness. Fernando was drawn to you like a moth to flame, only you didn’t burn him. You were kind to everyone and very talkative, and for a while, Fernando wondered how you managed to get into Formula 1 and keep your spirit intact. Everyone called you a social butterfly. Then he started calling you Mariposa, as a sweet nickname, and he explained to you it meant “Butterfly”.

You two were always together, being teammates, so it didn’t take long for the dynamic shift. Soon, there were longing looks and lingering touches. The way Fernando would always touch the small of your back for a little too long when talking to you, or the way you lean too close whenever talking to him, or the way his eyes stare at your lips every opportunity. Or when you finished a good race and the first thing you’d do was jump on his arms. How you’d always knock three times on his helmet right before going off to the race, he started reciprocating the gesture, since he knew it was probably your thing for good luck or something.

Things went like that for too long, and neither of you were brave enough to take the jump, as you called it.

That until fate put you face to face during summer break. You were in Mallorca with a bunch of your friends for a girls trip in a resort by the sea. You were having brunch when you spotted Fernando at the same time he spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise, he muttered something to the people with him that looked like his family members, before coming to you.

“Mariposa!” He hugged you softly.

“Hi! Good to see you!” You chirped, nervously.

Fernando blatantly checked you out. You were wearing simple bikinis and a light beach robe. You were tanned, hair wild and cheeks red like you had come straight out of one of his wet dreams.

“Enjoying summer break?” He asked.

“Yeah, with my friends,” You pointed to where they waited for you at the table, “will you be here for long?”

“No, my family is going back today and I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ve been here for a few days already.”

You waved him goodbye after a quick chat. That night, the weather, the breeze and the empty villa tempted him into calling you. He didn’t want to be that guy so he resisted the urge, instead going for a walk by the beach, alone. As fate would have it, he found you at a small beach party with your friends, dancing and drinking.

Like a magnet, your eyes found his, and you said something to your friends before walking up to him.

“You came to the party?” You asked.

“No, I was just taking a walk and passed by,” He shrugged, and started walking away “I’ll let you go back to your friends.”

“No! No- I mean- Can I walk with you?” You asked and he just nodded.

You two walked away by the shore, the small waves crashing over your feet, and you two chatting about the island and all the adventures you got to go.

“So you went diving, surfing? Everything?”

“I have always been kind of a scaredy-cat, especially as a kid. My dad used to tell me ‘you just have to breathe ten seconds of courage and take the jump’. Funnily, racing was the only thing I wasn’t afraid of. I’m in control, me and the car are one.”

He listened to you for a long while, his eyes focused on the way the wind picked up your hair, your dress flowy in the wind and your bikini top peeking from under the neckline. You were looking delicious, he had to admit. You always were, but now, after spending the whole day under the sun, your skin was golden and glowy, and he imagined himself biting into your shoulder and kissing up your neck.

When you two finally stopped by the villa, Fernando looked at you attentively.

“Won’t your boyfriend be worried about you?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you shook your head knowing that he was just trying to find out if you had someone.

“You don’t? Well you’re pretty and nice, I thought you’d have one by now.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, blushing which made him chuckle.

“You know you are stunning.”

“Well, I know I’m pretty, I just didn’t know if I am pretty enough for you.”

“Mariposa,” his voice had a tone of reprimand, but his eyes falling down your cleavage and body, betrayed him.

“Just one kiss?” You asked, pouting, “and we don’t even have to talk about it after.”

“I can’t.”

“But you want to?” You asked, full of hope.

“We should not,” he whispered as you closed the distance to his face, your face barely centimeters from his, lips dangerously close.

“We could just,” you tried to come up with an argument, but your lips brushed his beard and you lost all train of thought.

“If we start, I will not be able to stop,” he mumbled, trying so hard to refrain himself.

“Then don’t.”

That’s all it took for him to press his fingers to your nape, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. And it felt divine, like nothing he had ever done before, you were sweet and the harder he kissed you, the more pliant you got in his arms, sighing and moaning softly as his hand found home over your ass, pressing firmly until your whole body was flush to his.

“Fernando,” you whispered, his lips going down your neck, his beard making goosebumps raise on your skin.

Then you walked inside without really breaking apart. Fernando pulled your dress from your body, staring at you in your bikini.

“This is tiny,” he said, hooking a finger by the string on the sides of the bottom.

You smiled some way you hoped was seductive, taking a step back so he could see you fully as you pulled the strings, letting your bikini top fall to the floor, followed by the bottom soon after.

Soon he had you bent over the back of the sofa, holding onto the seat for dear life as he knelt behind you and ate you out, fingering you ass all the way to a mind blowing orgasm. Then he fucked you senseless, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, switching English and Spanish back and forth. He slapped your ass until it was stinging, whispering about your “tempting tiny bikini”. He had you groaning, drooling against the sofa until your toes curled and you came around his cock.

“Nano… Fuck-” you moaned feeling him cumming too.

He cuddled you, both of you falling on the sofa, spent.

“Why were we holding back? We should’ve done this a long time ago.” You said, lips brushing his beard.

He didn’t answer because he knew why he had been holding back. You were young, sometimes naive, and his teammate. It was double the trouble. But he didn’t allow himself to wallow in those feelings, rather focusing on the feel of you naked in his arms.

“You know what we should do? Stay here a bit longer,” you rose from his chest, eyes glinting mischievously, “we should extend our stay here.”

“Just you and me?”

“Just us,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his chest.

And so you stayed with him. You sent your friends to Ibiza as a gift and Fernando extended his rent on the villa. You’d spend the day lazing around, cooking together and going to the beach or the pool. You played tennis and trained together in the small gym. You made love on every possible surface of that whole villa, which left you spent and satisfied every single day.

And you talked. Fernando considered you to be one of the closests people to him on the grid, but still, he learned so much more about you, about your mental strength to rise and thrive in motorsport. And you were clever and witty, joking around him, talking about life and all your dreams. And he could hear you for hours on end, never getting tired of you.

Unfortunately, your little time of uninterrupted happiness had to end. With a heavy heart, you kissed him goodbye, both of you aware that things would never go back to the way they were before summer break. But you two were also too scared to name anything, or to ruin whatever this dynamic was.

But you left Mallorca admitting to yourself that you had fallen in love even deeper.

You tried to keep texting and calling him, but you usually were in very different time zones so the texts were few and far between. Fernando even sent you a sweet text on your birthday a few of days later.

There was a gala by the end of summer break almost three weeks later, hosted by the FIA, it was mostly for mingling, and most drivers usually went, especially those trying to keep an image to the big shots.

Fernando went there because he rarely missed it. And maybe because he knew you would be there too, and maybe he could leave with you.

You arrived a little late, stunning in a green gown, with a tight corset and a big slit showing your leg. Fernando watched as you made rounds, greeting people and old men, other drivers that were your friends and their wives or girlfriends. You eventually made your way to Fernando, and he proudly waited for you when you walked up to him, the most beautiful smile adorning your lips and eyes shining just as much as the diamonds on your earrings.

“You’re beautiful, mariposa.” Fernando whispered.

“Thank you, you look handsome too. Love me a man in a tuxedo.” You whispered back conspiratorially, winking at him.

You two chatted for a little, watching the people around. You told him everything you did during summer break after you two parted ways in Mallorca. When the slow music started, you watched the couples getting to the dancefloor.

“Nano, can we dance?” You asked. He just stiffened, face unsure.

“Hm, I’m not sure.”

“Nobody will mind, we’re teammates,” you shrugged.

“I don’t think it's a good idea,” He looked at your face, still staring longingly at the couples slow dancing on the dancefloor. Yearning for something he couldn’t give you.

“Mhm…” You hummed, disappointed. You stood there silent for a couple more minutes, watching the dancefloor. Fernando imagined dancing with you, having you in his arms, listening to your voice, your hand on his shoulder. You cleared your throat for a second, “I’m gonna get a drink.”

You didn’t wait for his response, leaving with long strides to the bar, the opposite side. Fernando’s eyes never left you, he watched as you got a drink and sipped a little, sitting on a bar stool. Some people stopped to greet you quickly. At some point, Charles Leclerc stopped you, whispering something that made you giggle a little, then he offered you a hand, probably inviting you to dance, but you refused politely. You grabbed a second drink and turned on the stool, nursing your drink and still watching the party go on.

You wanted to dance with him, not anyone else.

Eventually, the party died down, and Fernando got close to you again, whispering in your ear to meet him in the most discreet parking lot and then he left. You watched his back as he made his way out. Downing whatever was left of your drink, you stood up, making a quick route to say goodbye to everyone.

Finally, you met Fernando in the car. He had driven himself in his expensive car.

As he drove away in the middle of the night, he put his hand on your thigh under the slit of the dress. You honestly wanted to jump him, to make him stop the car anywhere and just get into it.

Quietly making into his hotel room, you kicked your high heels off and kissed him, not giving him any second before deepening the kiss, pressing your body to his.

“Wait,” he managed to croak out. You took a step back. He went into his luggage and picked a small box, handing it to you, “I know your birthday was two weeks ago, but since I didn’t see you- well, happy birthday.”

“You didn’t have to…” you whispered, opening the box to a beautiful and delicate necklace with a gold butterfly pendant with small diamonds all around the wings, “it’s so beautiful, Fernando.”

“Not as much as you, Mariposa.” He whispered back, taking the necklace, placing you in front of the full body mirror and standing behind you and locking the necklace around your neck.

“Thank you”

He kissed your neck, running a hand down your arm, then kissing your shoulders while pulling the hair pins out of your hair, letting your hair free. He kept leaving hot wet kisses on your skin, calling you “hermosa” and “my mariposa” all while unzipping your dress slowly. You let him do whatever, his hands pushing the corset out until the fabric pooled around your ankles kicking it away too, and you stood in nothing but panties and the necklace.

You gasped, staring at your reflection on the mirror and him behind you, his rough fingertips running over your side, getting to your front and cupping your boobs. You felt soft as his fingers pinched your nipples, making you moan softly.

“You ready to take me?” He asked against your ears.

“Please, Nano,” you moaned his name the way you only said it when you were alone and getting intimate.

“Foot there,” he pointed to a chair. You did as he said, one leg up so he could have better access to your panties.

He pressed his chest to your back, fingers sliding inside your panties to feel your obscene wetness dampening the fabric. His fingers slid right over your clit, spreading your juices all around, before diving into your cunt. You moaned, head lolling back against his shoulder, as he pleasured you nonstop. You had been turned on even since the gala, and the ride to the hotel had been pure torture not being touched. So it didn’t take much for him to build you up, his thumb brushing your clit. Your moaning got louder and with the way he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close.

And so he stopped, making you whine. He just chuckled.

“Nano! I was so close!” You pouted.

“Needy girl, get on the bed,” he pointed again, like an order, “you’re cumming around my cock first.”

You sat on the bed slowly, still reeling from almost orgasming. You watched as Fernando started undressing in front of you, so you just ran both hands from his chest down to his thighs, fingers barely touching the straining erection in his pants.

“Don’t get greedy now. Wait.”

With his words, you stopped touching him, leaning back so you could watch him undress. When he finally got rid of all clothing, he leaned, kissing your stomach and up your boobs, mouthing your nipples as his hands pulled your panties, letting you lay down on the edge of the bed. You held his head against your nipples, his eyes finding yours through his eyelashes. 

When you were both fully naked, he just held your legs open and sank into your cunt, making you moan loud as you back rose up from the bed.

“Nano- oh, fuck!” You moaned, and pulled by his neck to kiss you.

He kissed you back slowly, patiently contrasting your desperate hands on his shoulder, crawling up his neck, fingertips sinking into his soft hair, as he fucked you slowly, pressing you deliciously into the bed, one hand firmly on the bedrest and the other holding your neck, pressing until you were cumming, his lips sucking hickeys into your skin.

You two were cuddling quietly when you decided to say what you’ve been thinking about ever since Mallorca.

“We should go on a date, Fernando. Take the next step, I really like what we have.”

You could feel him stiffening against you, and you closed your eyes, afraid of what his response would be.

“We can’t, mariposa. You are way younger than me,” He said somberly, “and we’re teammates. This would be too messy for the both of us, but especially for you, who is just starting your career.”

“I don’t mind if that’s the price I need to pay to have you.”

“We can’t take this kind of risk for something we don’t even know it’s real.”

That squeezed your heart and made you angry with his denial.

“Fernando, this is real- You know that!”

“Calling a cab to take you to your hotel,” he said standing up and picking his phone. His tone was cold, detached from you, like you were just some toy for him to have fun with, and now you served your purpose.

“Don’t be like that, Fernando. This is more than just sex,” you got up, covering yourself with the bedsheet because it felt too vulnerable having this conversation naked.

“We can’t be anymore than that. You’re too young to understand.” He said not looking at you.

There was a lump on your throat rapidly forming. He knew you hated when people treated you like you were dumb because you were young.

“Please let us just talk about it-”

“There’s nothing to talk about. This means nothing! Nada!” He exclaimed.

“You don’t mean that. Don’t be a jerk.” Your voice was already wavering.

You stared at his back as he turned around, going to the opposite side of the room, your tears started falling down.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He finally said but still didn’t look at you.

“I’m already hurt,” you said, picking up your panties from the floor hastily putting them on, realizing how Fernando had helped you with your dress, so you just picked up one of his sweaters and dressed, “do you want me or do you not?”

“I don’t want you.”

“You’re missing good things in life because of fear. Just take the fucking jump, Fernando.”

The next thing he heard was the slamming door behind you.

When he walked back, he noticed you had left the butterfly necklace on the table. Holding the necklace against the palm of his hand, he wondered if he did the right thing or just lost the best thing in his life.

You didn’t text or called him. And he didn’t either. Eventually he texted you, to tell you had “forgot” the necklace, to test the waters.

“You’re the only one who calls me mariposa. This necklace has no meaning to me if you’re not in my life.”

His mind would often wander back to Mallorca, to those few days you and him lived in paradise. Sleeping late, waking up even later, then making love lazily under the sun, sunbathing naked by the pool, and cooking together, training together. There was never silence with you, since you were always talking or singing or playing loud music.

And he missed it. As the weeks progressed and the more race weeks came, you didn’t try to talk to him about the two of you. You were still polite and talkative, usually filling his silence with stories, talks about the track and strategies. You still knocked on his helmet three times before every race, probably a pre race ritual by now.

He missed you. He missed not only the feel of your cunt around his cock, but he missed your loudness, and your laugh. He missed the light in your eyes that was slowly darkening each passing day. Like you were losing hope he would come around and change his mind.

The last race of the season, he was a little late from a meeting, so you were already getting in the car when he came out. Your visor was up, so you just looked at him, and knocked your own helmet three times as a sign to him, who did the same gesture back to you.

By around ⅔ of the race, there was an accident and the red flag was called.

It took maybe two or three minutes until all cars stopped on the pitlane, lined up under the red flag. As Fernando climbed out of the car, he turned around, looking for you, removing his helmet, guard and balaclava, he went inside the garage.

“Where’s Mariposa?” He asked, to one in particular. But then his eyes landed in Martha, your PT, and her eyes were watery as she pointed to the screen.

A sinking feeling expanded in his stomach as he saw your car, that now looked like an unrecognizable wreckage. He dropped his helmet, covering his mouth with a hand. The marshals were all around your burning car, various people with fire extinguishers, trying to lower the fire enough to pull you out.

“Has she responded yet? Did she say anything?” Fernando asked without removing his eyes from the screen.

“No,” Somebody said, somberly.

“She’ll be fine,” Fernando assured, probably trying to convince himself, and his rapid heartbeat. He had seen and had been in many ugly crashes, and in the end, the driver had come out unscathed. He was sure you could manage, you were very strong and stubborn.

When the fire died down enough, a couple of marshals pulled you out, and Fernando’s heart felt like it was stopping as they pulled you out unconscious. The marshals made a small shield around you and carried you to the ambulance.

Looking around, Fernando finally noticed how everyone was horrified by the crash, and all the drivers around seemed pale and worried. It took a couple of minutes for the FIA to decide to keep the race going, setting it to restart 15 minutes later.

“Fernando,” someone called, and he turned to be faced with George and Alex, who were your closest friends on the grid, “any news on her?”

“Not yet,” he paused, trying really hard to not freak out, “Mike went to the hospital with her.”

“That was ugly,” Alex muttered gloomily.

The tree of them stayed silent, eyes on the screen where a replay of your crash. It was probably a mechanical issue, since you were in high speed when the tyres locked, and you visibly couldn’t brake, going straight into the barriers, full force.

“Will-” George started but his voice failed a little and he cleared his throat, “will she be ok?”

“Yes. She’ll be ok.” Fernando said, not only to calm down the two young drivers, but also to convince himself, since no other option was acceptable in his mind.

You had to be fine.

“Fuck it,” Fernando went inside his room, changing quickly into more casual clothes, as he came out, the team was confused, “I’m sorry, but I have to check on her. Martha, come with me.”

He left knowing he would face terrible consequences with the FIA, not only for not going back to the race, but also because he avoided the press to go to the hospital you were taken to.

On the car, on the way to the hospital they had taken you to, his phone rang, and it was Mike, who had been the first one to go with you to the hospital. Fernando supposed Mike would want to tear him a new one for abandoning the race.

But no. Mike wanted to update him, telling you had a concussion that had knocked you out on the spot, inside the car. They were going to check if you had any more injuries with scans and tests.

By the time he got to the hospital, he met with Mike, and with Vince, your friend and manager, they said you were still unconscious and going through all the examinations necessary. The doctors wanted to see if you didn’t have any internal bleeding or fractures. They kept you unconscious during urgent care, hoping you would wake up after the tests and after the meds wear off.

Fernando sat in the waiting room unmoved, his fear eating him inside every minute you had not woken up yet. Martha was tearful the whole time, while Vince was making calls right and left, he got in touch with your family and closest friends. Alberto showed up around an hour after to pick Fernando up to go back to the hotel.

“I am not leaving,” Fernando said.

“Fernando, there’s nothing you can do. Vince said she will probably wake up late morning tomorrow, we can just-”

“I will not leave.”

Fernando’s words left no space for debate. He didn’t have any commitments for the next week. So he stayed after everyone left, waiting for news on his mariposa. He could barely drink the coffee because his stomach was churning with the lack of news. In the middle of the night, finally they finished the tests and they put you in a room.

After bribing his way inside, Fernando was able to get into your room and see you. You were sleeping, looking peaceful in that hospital bed, using an oxygen inhaler.

“Why does she need oxygen?” He asked the nurse checking on you.

“Here it says she inhaled some smoke before the fire was put off,” the woman explained, reading your chart.

“She will be alright, isn’t she?” He asked, his tone audibly worried. The nurse sighed, as if she didn’t want to say her next words.

“We can’t tell just yet. For now the scans and tests show she is fine, but we can only tell for sure after she wakes up.”

She left Fernando behind with dread consuming his every thought.

As he stared at your unconscious body on the bed, he couldn’t help but remember when you slept with him in Mallorca. Your naked body tangled with the blankets, hair splayed on the pillows and tanned limbs looking for him even in sleep, hugging him and keeping him in bed with you longer than he usually did. He sat by the bed, hand holding yours, running his thumb over your cold knuckles.

The remorse was eating him alive. You had to be alright. You had to wake up soon and laugh at his worried face, joking that you’re tougher than you look. Giving him those eyes. He couldn’t bear not looking at your eyes again, that would break him apart one last time.

Because you could have been his the whole time. He could have slept with you in his arms more often than not. He could have been stealing your kisses in dark corners and going out for dinner after late team meetings. He could’ve received random cute selfies from you throughout his day. He could’ve whispered “I love you” into your skin every night. Only he didn’t.

His last words to you were “I don’t want you” and he couldn’t take it if those were his last words for you ever. He never let himself admit to you that he had fallen. That he was absolutely crazy for you, that he loved you even before you ever kissed him.

He was about to spiral in guilt when your sister arrived in the early morning. She visibly didn’t expect Fernando there, holding her sister’s hand.

“I just talked to the doctor,” Mila, your sister, muttered.

“He said the meds will wear off later today,” Fernando said.

“You can go rest now, come back later.” Mila offered. Didn’t sound like she wanted him specifically out, but more out of worry.

“No, I- I want to stay until she’s awake.”

“Fernando, she wouldn’t want you to wear yourself thin because of her,” The way Mila said the words, it left a little unsaid.

“You know?” Was all he asked. Do you know about us? What do you think? What did she say about me? But Mila just nodded, she didn’t look judgemental.

“I know.”

He was about to leave to at least shower and eat something before coming back. As Mila got closer to your sleeping form, Fernando stood back and your sister touched your hand. Then she knocked three times on the bedside table. Fernando frowned.

“Why did you do that?” He asked Mila.

“When we were kids in karting, Dad used to do that to our helmets before races, each knock means a word. ‘I love you’, and with time it just became a silly habit of hers,” Mila explained.

Fernando’s heart twisted inside, eyes watering.

Knock. I. Knock. Love. Knock. You.

You had been doing the knocks to him for months, even before the summer break.

He left the room without a word, breathing in and out to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional man by any means, but the knowledge that you have been loving him for so long, broke his heart.

After going back to the hotel to shower and eat, he went knocking in Alberto’s room when he noticed he didn’t have his phone anywhere in sight ever since before the race had started. Like predicted, Alberto had his phone.

In his suite, Fernando unlocked his phone to hundreds of notifications, a lot from other drivers, asking for news about you, since not the Formula 1 or the FIA had released any notes about your condition. After shooting a few answers to the other drivers, he finally saw one notification, saying you had left him a voicemail the day before. From the time stamp, it was a bit before the race.

Wide eyed, he pressed play on the voicemail.

“Hey, I’m about to go out in the car, but I guess I just breathed 10 seconds of courage, well not enough to wait to say it to you face to face,” you giggled nervously, “but what I mean to say is, I love you. Probably not what you wanted to hear, but I do love you. And I know you don’t feel the same, but maybe you could… I don’t know, maybe you could take a chance on me. I know your reservations about the world, but… We should take the jump. I can make you really happy if you let me. And maybe one day you will grow to love me- god, that last part was pathetic- Shit- How do I delete this?” There was noise as if you were struggling with the phone and then someone called your name far away, “one second!” you told the person, “shit, I gotta go. Just please, can we talk over the winter break? I guess what I mean is that-” Then the beep ended the message, cutting your voicemail off.

He pressed play a couple more times, until he could breathe again, your voice offering some sense of peace to his mind. You were willing to have him, even after he kicked you out of his hotel room, even after he pretty much ignored your history all these past few months.

It would be alright. You would wake up, he would tell you he loved you and he was so sorry that he had wasted so much time being afraid of what people may think or how the world might treat you.

Only you didn’t.

You didn’t wake up after the meds wore off. And Fernando, your sister, Vince and Martha were all shocked when the doctor said it was possible you were in a coma.

“Everything seems ok, but she’s not waking up. Sometimes the body takes a little more time to recover from traumas like this.”

“When-” Mila’s voice failed, tears streaming down her face, “when do you believe she could wake up?”

“We can’t pinpoint that with precision,” the doctor answered.

“Get all the tests redone,” Fernando said suddenly, “maybe you missed something.”

“But-”

“I’ll pay for it.”

That’s all he said before leaving and entering a toilet by the waiting room. His chest heaving, he watered his shaky hands to try and calm down. You didn’t wake up. They weren’t sure when or if you would wake up. And, fuck, Fernando had seen that before with Jules, who was comatose for months before passing away.

He remembered the blinding pain of losing a friend and he couldn’t bear losing the love of his life too. Fernando stayed in the stall for a while, trying to calm down his terrified thoughts.

When he went back, your sister was still crying, being comforted by Vince.

“Fernando, can you stay here while we call my family?” Mila asked, and Fernando nodded.

As they left, Fernando sat by your side, holding your hand. With his thumb running over the back of your hand, he looked at your face.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, “I need you here. There’s still so much for you here. Please, I just need you to fight a little more, yes? You have always been stubborn.”

He waited for some kind of miracle, for you to wake up, for your eyes to find him like they always did even in a crowded room.

“When you recover, we will go out, on a proper date, and we’ll dance, like you wanted to. We’ll hold hands and I’ll take you to meet my family.” He kissed the back of your hand softly, “Wake up, Mariposa.”

He stayed there the whole day, letting your sister go find a hotel to stay and get some sleep. Then at night, she came back, assuring Fernando that he should go to sleep too, she knew he was more than a day and a half awake. Back at the hotel, he showered the smell of hospital off and made some calls to take care of his businesses. He texted George and Alex to update them. He also talked to his family, giving updates on his teammate, but not prolonging the chat as to not risk breaking down because of the state his mariposa was in the hospital. Then he went to sleep after a quick dinner, exhausted enough to sleep fairly quickly.

He managed to sleep the whole night, going in and off dreams of you, his brain probably too worried to really forget, even unconscious. He woke up at dawn, going back to the hospital so your sister could leave to rest.

Fernando checked on you first thing, and you were still unconscious, but your sister was on the phone talking to your parents, so he just left to give her a little privacy. He went into the cafeteria and drank a small cup of coffee.

As he went back, he noticed how agitated Vince looked on the phone right outside your room.

“Vince, what happened?” He asked, dreading that the worse had happened in the few minutes he was away.

“She woke up!”

Fernando’s eyes welled up with tears as he opened the door.

“-No, no, don’t talk just yet. Let’s wait for the doctor,” you sister said to you, then both of them looked at Fernando, who looked rooted to the spot, “Fernando! She woke up!” Your sister said through happy tears.

Your sister hugged again, kissing your head, whispering how she loved you all while Fernando stood there, trying to will his limbs to move. Then the doctor and a nurse came, asking you all to leave so he could examine you.

He waited outside as your sister went on the phone with the good news to your family again. Then the doctor came out, announcing you were looking good, and apparently no sequelae but they would still keep you for a few more days for close examination and to make sure everything was alright.

Barely registering anything, Fernando just entered your room, and you smiled at him. You smiled. Your eyes shining bright like you had just woken up from a simple nap.

And then he cried. Fully cried for the first time since the accident, like the relief of seeing you alive and well broke the dam of the tears he had been trying to hold back. And he could breathe again. Covering his face with both hands, he tried to get himself in control but he only stopped when he heard you.

“Na-” your voice was hoarse, “-no.”

“No, don’t talk yet. The nurse said your throat might feel a little dry.” He managed to subside his tears enough to talk.

When he sat down on the chair, you lifted your hand to hold his face. You were still a bit weak, but you wiped his face of the tears. He held your hand with both of his, kissing your palm.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Fernando said with a small smile. You smiled back, looking sleepy, “I thought I was going to lose you.”

You shook your head minimally but your eyes had that mischievous glint, like you were thinking of a silly joke about how tough you actually are.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for making you think I don’t love you, when I really do. I have for the longest time. We’ll make it work, however you want,” he just dumped the words, not wanting to lose another precious second not being yours, “soy tuyo, Mariposa. Te amo, mi amor.”

You just held his hand, squeezing it slowly three times. I. Love. You.

[aquaticmercy]

Blood Bound

Part 2 of Dark Necessities

Summary : You are blood bonded to Bucky. The problem? You don't know what a blood bond is.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x half-vampire!reader (she/her in mind)

Warnings/tags : Blood. Cursing. Sexual tension. Pleasure from a vampire bite (?). Brief mention of sex (not graphic). Violence.

Word count : 3.1k

Note : Reader is a daywalker like Blade. John Walker and Eric Brooks feature in this because I kinda tolerate John because I think he has potential to be a well-written character, and I loved the Blade comics as a kid. Enjoy!

Whatever manifested between you and Bucky after the feeding only grew stronger in the days that followed. 

It wasn’t just the bite, nor was it just the intoxicating power of his super-soldier blood; it was something more— it has to be. It was something that you could not identify yet— it was as if it unlocked something dormant.

You didn’t understand it. The only bond you knew of was the familiar bond— and that required Bucky drinking your blood, not the other way around.

You knew you should’ve read up more on the history of vampirism. Granted, your lack of knowledge at this point wasn’t entirely your fault— you hadn’t lived very long, at least not by vampire standards. You haven’t even lived through a human lifetime yet.

You had barely scratched the surface of the supernatural experience. Eric Brooks had told you to read thousands of ancient inscriptions, and you were even a quarter way there yet. 

Besides, maybe you were just overthinking it. Maybe this was just what it felt to feed on an enhanced being.

Of course, you had fed on people before Eric— Blade— found you. He had seen you as a feral teenage daywalker, reckless but full of potential. It had been different then. Human blood was good but not great, it just gave you sustenance. You’d always imagine you had to get used to blood the same way high school kids learned to like beer.

When Eric took you in, he gave you shelter. He gave you a home and proper training. He gave you bags of serum monthly— ones he developed as a blood replacement. He gave you scrolls to study, books to read.

He told you to never ever consume human blood, even if it means you would never be satisfied.

Well, you broke that rule.

It had been weeks now since you first fed on Bucky’s blood, and now you could feel him like a second pulse.

It started with small things. So small that it went unnoticed at first. You’d reach for a glass of water, only to have him pass it to you before you even realized you were thirsty. He’d appear beside you on missions, his arms raised to protect you the second you sensed an incoming attack. And his injuries—those bruises and cuts you’d tend to— left ghostly aches on your skin.

After the feeding, both your powers became something else entirely. 

Your already sharp reflexes were sharper, your speed more supernatural that it should be. Bucky noticed it too—he moved with more than super soldier agility, leaping over gates as if they weren’t there, dodging bullets with uncanny ease. 

It wasn’t just that. Your emotions flowed into each other in unexpected surges. 

When Bucky felt anger, a hot, restless fury built within you, too. When your mind was clouded by doubt or fear, he’d tense up beside you.

One evening, after a particularly grueling mission, you both stumbled back to your shared apartment. His shirt was ripped, exposing the bruises mottling his chest. He tried to ignore it, but he knew you felt it, too. 

“I need you,” he murmured, voice steady, almost begging. 

“Bucky, we can’t keep doing this,” You swallowed. “What if you get hurt?”

“I won’t,” he growled, fingers brushing over your cheek, voice thick with longing. “Don’t you feel it? I’m stronger, faster— I’m healing quicker than I ever have before. Whatever this is, it’s changing both of us.”

The words hung in the air. You’d felt it too, that surge of power, that electric hum that vibrated through your bones.

“What is this?” you whispered, not expecting an answer. “What is it doing to us?”

“Let’s find out,” he said, his voice a dark, thrilling promise as he leaned in, the heat of his breath grazing your skin.

You hesitated, a pang of guilt tugging at your heartstrings. “Maybe we should ask Eric. He’s dealt with this daywalker thing longer—he might understand—”

There was a glint of frustration in his gaze. “And have him tell you to stop feeding off me? To go back to starving, until you waste away?” His hand cupped your face, pulling you closer. “His serum isn’t working anymore. Cow blood isn’t working. You need this. And I’m not about to let you go through hell to satisfy someone else’s rules.”

You felt your guard slipping, his words and the heat in his eyes breaking down your last defences. He was offering himself to fill the void inside you. And you couldn’t deny him any longer.

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, fierce and demanding, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you onto his lap.

Slowly, you let your fangs graze his skin, a soft, tantalizing scrape that drew a low groan from his throat. His hands tightened around you. With a gentle press, you sank your fangs in.

The first taste of his blood hit you like a shockwave, the way it did the first time. He flooded your senses in a dizzying head rush. He tasted so intoxicating that it left you gasping.

You felt his pulse in your mouth, steady and strong.

“Fuck…” he groaned, his voice rough, almost pleading. “Don’t stop.”

His words were a spark to the fire inside you. His blood was like a drug. You couldn’t talk where you ended and he began.

His hands roamed over your back, fingers tracing every curve, pressing you closer as if he couldn’t bear any distance between you. The way he held you, the way he breathed your name—it was like he was offering every part of himself to you

When you finally pulled back, Bucky’s eyes were heavy-lidded. He reached up, brushing his thumb over your lips, smearing the faint trace of his own blood as he gazed at you, his hazy eyes a mixture of wonder and desire.

“I’m yours,” he whispered, his voice a low growl.

Without thinking, you pressed your lips to the mark you’d left, your tongue flicking over the wound as he shivered. You could feel his pulse slowing, his heartbeat returning to a steady rhythm as the euphoria settled over him. He looked almost dazed, a lazy, satisfied smile on his lips as he gazed up at you.

“You really think Eric would understand?” he murmured, his voice soft but tinged with a dark humour.

You laughed softly, brushing your fingers through his hair. “He wouldn’t,” you savoured the warmth beneath your hands. “And I don’t care. This… this is ours.”

He let out a low, satisfied hum, his hand sliding down to rest on your thigh, his thumb tracing slow circles that sent a shiver up your spine. 

The feeding continued, more frequently, and you both realised the connection you felt went beyond survival in battle.

The first time you felt each other’s pleasure in bed, it hit you both like a wave, powerful and dizzying, sweeping through you so intensely that you weren’t sure where your body ended and his began. His pleasure sparked in your core, racing along your nerves like electricity, feeding back into him, and then doubling again within you. The feeling grew in an endless loop.

Every gasp, every moan became a shared experience, each sensation reverberating between you in dizzying echoes. His touch, as he moved within you, left you quivering; his breath against your neck seemed to burn, intensifying every rush of desire until you could barely breathe.

It was all-consuming.

And then, once, you’d fed from him in the midst of it, your lips against his neck as his pulse thundered beneath your mouth. The second your teeth broke skin, a flood of his essence surged through you, a rush so potent, so intoxicating, you nearly lost yourself in it. 

It was more than pleasure; it was pure, unfathomable ecstasy, a high that pulled both of you into an untethered oblivion.

Afterward, both of you lay tangled together, limbs intertwined. It was as though pieces of yourselves had fused. It was the most intense connection you’d ever felt, something neither of you could put into words. Even if you could, it would never do it justice. 

In the silences you shared, you knew that no other pleasure could ever compare to what you shared.

—

The mist hung thick around the old Hydra outpost, cloaking it in a damp chill that seeped into your skin, even with your heightened senses. The place reeked of decay and rot. A vampire nest thrived in the old base— newly turned vampires hiding from the world, growing stronger, more feral with each night that passed.

They killed people. They turned people.

You, Bucky, Eric Brooks, and John Walker were there to wipe them out before they could spread their sickness further.

Eric took point, his silhouette sharp in the mist as he motioned for you and Bucky to fan out around him.

“Close ranks.” His voice was barely a whisper. “No one goes in solo."

You nodded, knowing better than to push against his authority. 

John, off to the side, gave Bucky a wry look. "Better keep up, Barnes.”

You could smell the faintest whiff of fear from John—though he’d never admit it. 

You moved forward, sinking deeper into the ruins, stopped by cracked concrete walls that loomed like tombstones.

Your eyes met Bucky’s. 

As you scaled the wall together, Bucky’s fingers brushing the concrete just behind yours.

John huffed below, struggling to keep up. His irritation crackled in the air as he muttered, “I thought we were both supersoldiers.”

“You’re getting slow, Walker,” Bucky said, his voice a low rasp, though he didn’t look down.

Once at the top, you peered down into the yard below. The stench hit you—stale human blood, mould, the faint copper tang of vampire blood. You all dropped down with a quiet thud, though John was louder than you’d like him to be. 

“Left flank,” Eric instructed, motioning toward the entrance, his eyes never leaving yours. You nodded, gripping the hilt of your knife, feeling its hunger.

Bucky moved beside you, ready, his presence as familiar as your own heartbeat. John and Eric fanned out to the right, slipping into the murky depths of the compound with grim determination.

The first vampire appeared just as you and Bucky reached the door, its eyes blazing red in the dim light. It had time to hiss, but not to scream. You launched yourself at it, your knife slicing through. 

A second figure lunged at Bucky, but before it could touch him, you were there, your blade found the vampire’s heart.

Bucky grinned, a wild, reckless glimmer in his eyes. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You shrugged wordlessly, almost casually.

Inside the base, the halls were narrow and cold, every corner shrouded in shadows. Bloodstains smeared the walls, and the smell of decay lingered thickly in the air. You moved quickly, every step calculated, every breath measured. The vampires were emerging in hoards now, drawn by the scent of fresh blood and the thrill of a fight. They came at you in waves—fangs bared, claws extended, feral eyes blazing.

One raked its nails across your shoulder, tearing into muscle. You winced, and Bucky’s eyes snapped to you, feeling the sharp pain sear through him, too. He yanked it off, his fist connecting with its jaw with a brutal crack. You pivoted, driving your knife through its chest, twisting until you felt the resistance give way.

John staggered past, panting as he took down a vampire, his face slick with sweat. He cast a sidelong glance at you and Bucky, frustration etched deep into his scowl. “How are you both running circles around us?”

“Stay focused, Walker,” Eric barked, but you could tell he’d heard John. He’d noticed how your movements mirrored Bucky’s, how you flinched when he did, even how you were breathing in time with each other. Eric’s gaze lingered too long, as if he was convincing himself something he didn’t want to believe.

“You’ve been off the blood serum for a while,” Blade murmured suddenly, his voice low and directed at you. “What have you been feeding on, kid?”

“Animal blood” you said quietly, keeping your gaze neutral, slashing down another vampire with ease.

Eric’s knuckle tightened, and you knew he didn’t believe you. He’d taught you everything you knew, raised you like a sister. And here you were, deceiving him with half-truths.

Before he could respond, another wave of vampires rushed you from the darkness, cutting the conversation short. 

Blade fought beside you, taking in every detail of the fight, every flinch, every glance you shared with Bucky.

“If you’re feeding on something else, you need to tell me.” He stepped closer, beheading a bloodsucker without even looking at it. “Now.”

You wanted to tell him, to explain the connection you shared with Bucky, and asked if he knew what the hell was going on, but the words caught in your throat. 

The fear of his disapproval held you back. He had warned you so many times against crossing that line, of giving into the hunger that all vampires struggled to control. And yet… Bucky had been different. 

You shoved Eric back, drawing his attention to the fight. “Save it for later,” you said, your voice clipped. “We’ve got company.”

You turned, facing down the horde with Bucky at your side, the two of you tearing through the vampires with an intensity that bordered on frenzy. Each kill was swift— brutal. Your knife left trails of gore in your wake, while Bucky’s fists shattered skulls with merciless precision.

At one point, you felt the burn of a blade slicing across your forearm, a deep, ragged cut that sent a surge of pain up your arm. But before you could react, Bucky flinched beside you, clutching his own arm as if he’d been wounded too. 

His gaze shifted back and forth between you and him. He moved in close, his voice barely a whisper as he muttered, “This isn’t normal.”

You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. You didn’t know what was happening.

The final vampire fell, its scream echoing down the blood-stained halls. The four of you stood in the aftermath, panting, bruised, and blood-soaked. The air was thick with the scent of the undead.

Eric’s gaze shifted to Bucky. “This shouldn’t be possible,” he muttered, almost to himself. “A blood bonded daywalker…”

Your heart hammered in your chest. You didn’t know what a blood bond was, never even heard of it. But the way Eric said it made your heart skip a beat.

Eric’s gaze softened for a brief moment, a shadow of pity flickering across his face. “If this is what I think it is…”

Eric didn’t press any further, but as you moved toward the exit, his words lingered in your mind, haunting and unshakeable. Whatever had happened between you and Bucky, you didn’t know.

And maybe, deep down, you didn’t want to.

—

As the four of you trudged out of the Hydra base, John caught up next to Bucky with a skeptical glance. His breath hung in clouds around them in the night air, but he ignored the cold, eyes narrowed on Bucky’s calm, steady pace.

"Alright, Barnes," he muttered, keeping his voice low so you and Eric wouldn’t hear. "You gonna tell me what the hell’s going on? Did you get a new serum or something?"

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"Don’t play dumb,” John snapped, frustration creeping into his tone. “I’m not blind. You’re faster. Stronger. You and..." He glanced in your direction before lowering his voice even more. "You both are."

Bucky shrugged, “Guess I’ve been working out,” he replied coolly, brushing John off with the kind of indifference that only seemed to make him angrier.

“That’s not funny.” John’s frustration was barely concealed.

For a moment, Bucky’s eyes flicked toward you, watching as you spoke quietly with Eric up ahead. 

“I told you, Walker,” he brushed off, “maybe you’re just getting slow.

—

The safe house was dark and quiet, a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. 

You barely had time to breathe before Bucky’s hand wrapped around your arm. He guided you into the bathroom, shutting the door.

Bucky’s lifted you to sit on the edge of the sink, his eyes taking in the blood on your shoulder, concern flickering across his face. 

The cut wasn’t closing as quickly as he’d like it to, your shoulder throbbing faintly— so did his. 

“Let me see it,” he said, voice low but intense, as he reached for the hem of your shirt. You started to protest, but he was insistently stubborn.

“It’s nothing,” you murmured, but even you could hear the strain in your voice. 

Without another word, he took off your tactical gear, the cool air brushing over the cut on your back. His eyes darted over the wound. 

Then, without hesitation, he pulled off his own shirt. “You know it’ll help you heal faster,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours before he tilted his head, offering his neck to you.

Your lips met his, almost desperate. You were satisfying a hunger as he pulled you closer, his hand tangling in your hair, your nails grazing his skin as you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

Then, slowly, you angled his neck.

You could hear his heartbeat, strong and steady, as you pressed soft, lingering kisses on his skin. 

Finally, you bit down.

A euphoric thrill coursed through you as his blood flowed into your mouth, filling you with a euphoric sensation that spread through every nerve, igniting something primal within both of you.

Bucky’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. His breaths came faster as he tilted his head back, a low, almost pleading sound escaping him. Each swallow of his blood was a pleasure so vast it felt spiritual. His fingers tangled in your hair, nails digging into your skin.

The moment was so intense that neither of you heard the door creak open.

“What the fuck…” John’s voice was harsh and full of shock.

You jerked back, catching John’s wide eyes. He took in the scene— your mouth still stained with Bucky’s blood, his arm around your waist. His confusion morphed into anger. “Are you… drinking his blood?”

Eric was right behind him, his rage thunderous. For a moment, he looked between you and Bucky, piecing it together with a calm that was worse than John’s horror. 

“This is what you call animal blood,” Eric said in a quiet accusation.

You glanced at Bucky, whose face had gone rigid. He didn’t pull away from you, his hand still resting protectively on your waist.

“I… I can explain,” you started, but even you weren’t sure what to say.

Eric’s gaze shifted from you to Bucky, a flicker of recognition in his eyes that turned grim. He muttered under his breath, “do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

-to be continued(?)

shall I make a part 3 or turn it into a series?

[writingwithciara]

broken legos -matt sturniolo-

summary: matt and y/n are both lego lovers so every month, they buy a set to work on together. it’s become such a normal part of matt’s routine that he doesn’t know what to do when y/n’s attention and time is turned elsewhere

word count: 5.1k

pairings: matt sturniolo x best friend reader, chris sturniolo x platonic reader

notes: i love how much matt likes legos and since he's just the cutest, i had to write this for him.

masterlist

y/n and matt weren’t really friends until the triplets 11th birthday. she attended their party only because they had invited everyone in their classes and because her mom was good friends with mary lou.

her mom had picked out an individual present for each of them. they each got a different lego set so when the boys unwrapped their gifts, y/n’s eyes widened and she looked at her mom.

“how come i can never get a lego set, mom?” she pouted.

“because, sweetheart. you never ask for one.”

“you can help me with mine if you want.” matt suggested shyly. he smiled at her so kindly and y/n found herself wondering how she had never really wanted to be friends with him in the first place.

“okay. deal.” y/n returned the smile as both her mother and mary lou beamed with pride. they were finally getting what they wanted. their kids hanging out together.

they got lego sets on their birthday every year and y/n would work with matt to put them together. what started off as an annual thing, quickly turned into a monthly thing for the two of them.

the triplets had just turned 20 & y/n bought matt a ginormous harry potter lego collection that was surely going to take up a majority of their time.

matt was excited for it. maybe even more so than y/n because over their 9 years of friendship, he had developed feelings for his best friend. he knew it wasn’t right to have the feelings but there was nothing he could do about them. their time together became special to him and he cherished every second he got to spend with her.

they immediately began working their way through the diagon alley sets and the process was about to start on the hogwarts castle.

y/n clicked the last two bricks for the gringotts bank together and looked at her creation.

“it looks so perfect. don’t you think?”

“i agree, y/n/n. you killed it.”

“no, we did it together. as a team.”

“we make an incredible team, don’t we?”

“yeah. we sure do.” y/n smiled and looked at the box that contained to castle. “how long do you think that things going to take us?”

“not too long hopefully. i wanna display it and feel proud of something for once.”

“matt, you’re a youtube star. you should be proud of all the hard work you’ve put into this career.”

“i am proud of it. but sometimes, it lacks a certain feeling. i love my fans to death but it gets overwhelming and the only way i find any escape is the time i spend with you putting lego sets together.”

“i understand that feeling all too well, matthew.” she looked at her phone to check the time. “i should be headed out soon. i have to work tomorrow and the commute is going to kill me so i need some rest.”

“why don’t you stay here tonight? i can drive you in the morning.”

“thats sweet, matt. but no. thanks for the offer but i’m fine going home now.” she smiled and stood up. matt followed her to the kitchen.

“i’m serious. we live closer to where you work so it wouldn’t take as long to get there.” he looked at her. “do you just not want to spend time with me anymore?”

“what? no. i will never feel that way about you. you know that.”

“no, i know. it’s a stupid question anyway.”

“i do want to spend time with you. i always do. it’s my favorite thing to do. but if i keep spending nights here, someone’s gonna notice and your fans will freak out and jump to conclusions.”

“yeah i guess you’re right.” he sighed. “but please? just for tonight? i can tell you’re tired and i don’t want you driving home like that. don’t know what i would do if something bad happened to you.”

“okay. i’ll stay. but only for tonight. and only because you said please.”

“that makes me feel so much better.” matt smiled. "you can take the bed and i’ll sleep out on the couch.”

“don’t be ridiculous. your bed is big enough. it’s always been big enough for the both of us. you’re sleeping in here with me.”

“well if you insist.” matt didn’t put up much of a fight. he knew she was going to make him sleep in the bed with her.

“i’m gonna go change into some comfier clothes then. see you in about 10.” y/n grabbed a pair of sweatpants and one of matt’s old t-shirts then went to the bathroom. matt quickly changed then sat in his computer chair to wait. when she came out, they both got under the covers and went to bed.

matt waited until he knew she was dead asleep before grabbing his pillow and going out to the couch. he knew she’d be upset but he could handle that. what he couldn’t handle was the warm feeling rising in his chest.

he had convinced himself that his feelings were just those of a little crush. but the more time he spent with her, the stronger they got. he had known her his whole life and despite having only been friends for 9 years, every time they talked, he was finding something new about her that he liked. he’d been trying to think less about her but it was impossible. so he started distancing himself a little.

to say y/n was upset with the distance would be an understatement. her heart was breaking. after a week, she went to chris to see if he knew anything.

“i actually have no idea why he’s being so moody lately. maybe he was talking to a girl who only wanted to use him and he doesn’t want to tell us because he’s ashamed or something.”

“that’s horrible, chris. do you think that’s what really happened?” y/n could feel her heart breaking at the thought of someone hurting matt in any way.

“i doubt that’s what happened, but there’s so many possibilities as to why he’s distancing himself from everyone.”

“yeah i guess.” y/n sighed and set the lego box on the kitchen table. “we were supposed to start this lego set this weekend but he hasn’t been talking to me so i guess i’ll have to do it by myself.”

“wait. i can help you if you want.”

“that’s nice of you, chris. but you don’t have to make up for your brothers absence in my life.”

“hey, you’re my friend too. in fact, you were my friend first actually. so i would love to start hanging out with you again.”

“okay fair point.” y/n looked from the set to chris, contemplating on his offer. “yeah. let’s do it.”

“cool. can’t wait to start.”

“wanna start tonight?”

“yeah sure.” chris smiled. “wait, i can’t tonight. we’re filming a video tonight.”

“oh. tomorrow then?”

“we could actually start tonight if you don’t mind hanging around until we finish filming.”

“you doing a car video or one in the kitchen?”

“kitchen.”

“then can i chill in your room while you film it?”

“why don’t you sit behind the camera and be like an assistant?”

“i’ve never done that before. what will i have to do?”

“you’ll just have to hand us things when we need them. and don’t worry about being on camera. i’ll have nick edit you out.”

“thanks chris. i appreciate it.” she looked around the room. “are the boys even home?”

“no. matt took nick to pick up supplies for the video.”

“why didn’t you go with them? you always do.”

“i had a feeling you’d be stopping by so i figured i’d stay home. didn’t want to miss my opportunity to see you.”

“although you weren’t the triplet i was hoping to talk to, i’m glad you were here.”

“i’m here whenever you need someone to talk to.”

“i appreciate that. thanks, christopher.”

“chris, we’re home!” nick called from the garage. “come help with the stuff.”

“one sec!” he yelled back and turned to y/n. “be right back.” he was gone before she could reply. seconds later, matt was coming up the stairs. he noticed her sitting at the table and stopped in front of the stairs. nick bumped into him and almost fell down the stairs. but once nick saw y/n too, he understood.

“matt, what the fuck? stop acting so weird. she’s your best friend, for crying out loud.” he whispered to his brother.

“just trying to figure out what she’s doing here.” matt replied, rather loudly, causing y/n’s head to shoot up. she noticed matt and sighed.

of course he would make that comment, she thought.

chris heard what matt said and pushed past his brothers to sit next to y/n.

“i invited her here to work on this lego set after we’re done filming tonight. speaking of which, she’s going to be our off camera assistant for the video. so if you have a problem with her being here, i suggest you speak up. or don’t. because she’s staying whether you like it or not.”

“i’m cool with it. it’s not a bad idea to have someone helping out off camera every once in a while.”

“sure. whatever works.” matt waved his hand around and retreated to his room. nick turned to his friend and shook his head.

“please excuse him. he’s been moody all day.”

“kid needs some action. let’s be real.”

“we could probably arrange something.” y/n scrolled through her phone, only half paying attention to the conversation. when she looked up, chris raised his eyebrow. “what? he clearly hasn’t been laid in a while so maybe we should find him someone.”

“i understood what you meant. but i never imagined the suggestion coming from you.” nick chuckled.

“i’m full of surprises.”

“alright. let’s get this video over with.” matt walked out of his room and stood at the kitchen table. he eyed chris and y/n who were conversing in a tone nobody else could hear. she glanced at matt then laughed at what chris said before the two of them were joining matt and nick in the kitchen.

y/n hit the record button as instructed and chris began introducing the video. she watched as the boys each said what they were going to do for the video. matt’s eyes lit up with excitement when he was describing his portion of the video and for a second, it made y/n’s heart melt. until he made eye contact with her and rolled his eyes. whatever she was feeling for matt was quick to disappear.

after the video was filmed, matt headed back to his room and nick went to his. y/n sat with chris at the table as they began the lego set.

“so, do you think matt’s problem is that he hasn’t fucked anybody lately and it’s just built up aggression?”

“that’s one way to put it. but yeah. it all adds up.” chris was focused on the section of the set he was tasked with assembling. his tongue darted in and out as he searched for each piece.

“i guess so.” y/n glanced behind chris at the hallway that went to matt’s bedroom. she prayed he would walk out at that very moment and everything between them would be fixed. but that didn’t happen.

over the next few hours, chris was focused more on the task at hand than y/n was so when he fell asleep at the table, she wasn’t surprised.

“chris, i think you need some rest.” she giggled at his half asleep response as he swatted her hand away.

“five more minutes. i want to get this part done.” he held the pieces up to show her what was left. she looked down at the diagram and smiled.

“that part is finished, chrissy. looks amazing. you did good.”

“thank you.”

“do you want to head to bed now?”

“will you be joining me?”

“i gotta clean up a bit but i’ll be down there in a few minutes, okay?”

“yay.” chris stood up and pulled the lego piece from his cheek. he nearly tripped down the stairs and when he got to his room, he was out like a light.

y/n on the other hand was still very much awake. as she cleaned up their work area, she couldn’t help but glance towards matt’s room. her hope was shrinking. all she wanted was to confront him and ask why he was being such an ass lately. she wanted to yell at him for breaking her heart. but she knew that if she saw him, she would crumble. no yelling would take place on her end. and at this point, she didn’t even care if he yelled at her. she just wanted to see him.

she had put the lego pieces into their designated bin and set the already assembled parts off to the side. just as she was about to head down to chris’ room, she heard a door open and footsteps entered the kitchen. she turned around and saw matt at the refrigerator. his back was turned so he didn’t notice her standing there.

“matthew bernard, we need to talk.”

“no we don’t.” he shook his head, grabbed his root beer and headed back towards his room. y/n was not about to let him go without a fight. she immediately followed and just as matt was about to get comfy at his computer, she pushed the door open and stomped inside.

“you are not pulling this shit with me, matt. it’s complete bullshit.”

“god, do you ever mind your own business?” he set his can down and rolled his eyes. “i don’t owe you anything.”

“as your best friend, i think your absence needs to be explained.”

“we can’t be friends anymore. there’s your explanation.”

“not good enough.” she sat on the edge of his bed and stared at him before averting her gaze and fiddling with her fingers. “why don’t you want to be friends anymore? did i do something wrong?”

“yes. now please leave me alone. i’m tired.”

“okay.” y/n sighed and left his room without putting up more of a fight. matt sighed and leaned back in his chair. it was killing him to hurt her this way but he had to do it. his feelings weren’t reciprocated and he needed to distance himself, whatever it took.

the next morning, y/n was quiet throughout breakfast, which was unusual to chris. she was normally a yapper like he was but when she responded to his cheery good morning with a slight head nod, he knew something was up. and he knew exactly what caused it. or more specifically, who caused her to go silent.

when they were finally alone, y/n broke down and told chris everything. she didn’t want him to be mad at matt so when she explained it all, it took all of her strength to keep him from confronting matt.

“please don’t. it’s not worth it.”

“bullshit it’s not. he’s ruining the most amazing friendship for something so stupid. he didn’t even tell you what you happened to do to cause this sudden change so he doesn’t get to be protected by you anymore. i have to kick his ass.”

“chris, please?”

“ugh, fine. but i don’t like this. you used to be so happy and calm. but now you’re the complete opposite. it changed overnight and i’m not happy about it.”

“i’ll be fine. i still have you and nick.” she smiled at her best friend. it was only a half smile. the one where chris could tell she didn’t want to do it. but he put his arm around her and smiled back.

“i’m gonna make you feel better.”

“and how do you plan on doing that, christopher?”

“by taking you to get lunch. your favorite.”

“you can’t drive, moron. but i appreciate the thought.”

“damn. what can we do that’s close to the house?”

“can we continue the lego set? we were getting so far before someone passed out.”

“hey, i was working really hard.”

“i know. you worked yourself into a deep sleep, darling.”

“if that’s what will make you happy, then let’s go finish the set.”

“yay.” y/n clapped her hands together and ran upstairs. chris chuckled and followed behind her.

“i’ll order your favorite food for lunch.” he pulled out her chair for her then sat next to her with a smile.

“chris, you don’t have to.”

“i know. but you’re my best friend and i love making you happy because i love you.”

“i love you too.”

and they both meant it. not romantically of course. but they both knew that their bond was unbreakable, even more so now than it had ever been.

matt walked out of his room when he heard y/n giggling. he didn’t expect to see y/n leaning her head on chris’ shoulder. it bothered him but there was nothing he could do about it. instead, he cleared his throat to make his presence known. y/n was the first to turn.

“oh. it’s just you. what do you want?”

“you to leave.” matt replied rather quickly, like he had been storing that answer away for this specific moment, causing y/n to stare at him in shock.

“fuck you, matt.” y/n looked at chris before sliding her chair away from the table. “i’m sorry, chris. but i can’t do this anymore.” she grabbed her phone and walked out the front door.

“what the fuck, matt?!?!” chris yelled at his brother before running after y/n.

matt watched them disappear and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. nick appeared seconds later and gave matt a look.

“what is wrong with you?” he didn’t even have to ask what happened. he heard the majority of it. “if that’s how you treat women, it’s no wonder you’re single.”

“hey, just back off. i need some space away from her.”

“and instead of telling her, like an adult, you just stopped talking to her entirely? except when you do actually speak to her, you’re the biggest asshole in the planet.” nick shook his head. “why do you need the space anyway?”

“it’s complicated, nick.” matt collapsed on the couch and took a breath before resting his head in his hands. “i’m in love with her.” for the first time since matt realized how he felt, the revelation felt real. someone else was now aware of the feelings.

“then tell her, you fucking dumbass. this isn’t healthy. for either of you. you’re breaking more hearts than needed.”

“i can’t tell her. she’s my best friend.”

“correction. she was your best friend, up until about a week ago, when you became a complete dickhead. just fucking talk to her.”

“i just can’t. it’s better this way.”

“for who, matt? for who?” nick slapped his brothers shoulder and returned to his room, leaving matt alone.

outside, y/n made it halfway down the street before chris caught up to her. when he was beside her, she slowed her pace and looked at her feet.

“i’m sorry for leaving like that, chris. i just can’t get it through my head that i was best friends with someone for 9 years and now it’s just all gone to shit.” she kicked a stone in her path and turned to enter the park. she sat on one swing while chris sat next to her on the other. “i just don’t understand what i even did for him to be acting this way, you know? if i had any idea, it might take the weight off my shoulders. but either way, it sucks.”

“yeah. i know.” chris looked over at her and sighed. “i wish things were different.”

“why couldn’t i have fallen in love with you instead? we have so much more in common and you’re actually nice to me. you care about me and matt does not.”

“you love him?” chris’ eyes widened at his best friends revelation. y/n froze for a brief moment before making the swing move side to side.

“yeah, i guess i do. and part of me just wants to yell at him and tell him he’s breaking my heart and the other part just wants to yell at him. which would be fine but i know i could never yell at him. it sucks.”

“i understand. it’s confusing, but i think i get it. and if we loved each other, then life would be simpler.”

“life is never simple for me. it’s like the universe is telling me i’m never meant to be happy.”

“why don’t you try telling matt how you feel? maybe he feels the same.”

“um, did you miss the part where i said the universe doesn’t want me to be happy? because in a perfect world, matt would definitely have feelings for me.”

“you guys are so similar and the fact that neither of you has realized that the other one is in love with you, is ridiculous. i mean, it’s pretty obvious how much you guys truly love each other.”

“i don’t think it’s-“

“oh please. the stares, the fact you’re together 24/7, the inside jokes, the way you blush when he even acknowledges you. the constant teasing. the hand holding in public so y’all don’t get separated from each other. you guys are like the little 4x1 flat lego bricks.”

“come again?”

“you’re good on your own but when you’re attached together, it’s hard to pull you apart.”

“when did you become so wise, christopher?”

“i’ve always been wise. but for matters of the heart, i’m an expert.”

“says the guy who’s never had a girlfriend before.”

“i don’t want to commit to someone if they’re not gonna stick around. i want it to be real.”

“yeah i get that. but thank you for this talk. maybe i’ll talk to matt when i’m over next time.”

“why not stay tonight? we still have to finish that lego set.”

“i’m not ready to see matt.” she sighed. “but if we can do it in your room, i would consider staying tonight.”

“you got yourself a deal. and you can even have my bed tonight.”

“such a gentleman, christopher.” y/n stood from her swing and pulled chris up. “let’s go.”

when they got back home, matt was nowhere to be found. it was like y/n’s prayers had been answered.

they quickly got to work on finishing their lego set. chris played some quiet music in the background and helped put the finishing touches on the set. when it was finished, y/n smiled widely.

“thank you for this, chris.”

“it was my pleasure. and i know i wasn’t the triplet you pictured while working on this set, but i’m glad you let me help.”

“i’d pick you any day.” she patted his knee and stood up to stretch. “i’m gonna go get some snacks from the kitchen. want anything?”

“pepsi of course.”

“should’ve known.” she playfully shook her head and walked up to the kitchen. nick was in the living room and when he saw her, he smiled.

"hey. what are you up to?"

"just grabbing some snacks for chris and i. what are you up to?" she opened the fridge and grabbed the drinks before going to the pantry and looking through the snacks.

"matt said something to me earlier and i've been thinking about it for a few hours."

"what did he tell you?"

"i think that's something he needs to tell you himself."

"that would be easy if he was actually talking to me instead of being an asshole." y/n set the snacks on the counter and turned towards the living room. it was then that she noticed the flowers on the table. "what's this?" she walked closer and looked at them. there was a note under the flowers so she picked it up and read it. it was in matt's handwriting.

i know this may be a little too late but i needed to let you know that i am sorry for being so stupid. these are your favorite flowers and i will love you until the very last one dies. i promise.

y/n inspected the flowers and noticed that one of them was made entirely out of legos. "nick, were you aware of this?"

"i wasn't aware that this would be how he was going to tell you. but i knew he loved you." nick stood next to her and smiled. "what do you think?"

"is this why he's been an ass lately? because he loves me?"

"i think so." he put his hand on her shoulder and admired the flowers. "so he loves you. do you love him?"

"i do, actually. but this isn't fair. he can't treat me the way he has been & then try to make things better by giving me a lego flower."

"maybe you guys need to talk. he's in his room." nick nodded his head down the hallway before heading up to his room. y/n glanced at the snacks, then at the hallway that lead to matt's room. she grabbed the lego flower and the note then headed to matt's room. she knocked gently and the door swung open. upon seeing her, matt's gaze softened.

"hey." he looked at her hands and saw the flower. "i see you got the note."

"i did." she walked past matt and sat in his chair while he sat on the edge of his bed. "it's not fair, matt."

"what do you mean?"

"while i appreciate the lego flower, i don't appreciate the fact that you've treated me like crap for a week and thought you could make up for it with the note and the flowers."

"i figured it wouldn't be enough but just so you know, i'm prepared to do whatever it takes to win you back. you being with chris just isn't natural."

"me and chris? is that why you've been upset these past few days? you think i'm with chris?"

"you've been spending so much time with him lately. and you guys have so much chemistry."

"well, that's ridiculous."

"so you're not with chris?"

"no. but i've come to the realization that my life would be easier if i had just fallen in love with him instead of you."

"you fell in love with me? when?"

"like 5 years ago, i think. and it's been torture just being your friend for so long. every time we'd start a new lego set, it was like falling in love with you all over again. your face would light up like a kid in a candy store and i found it so endearing whenever you'd receive a new set."

"if it helps, it's been torture for me too. i've been pretending for years that i had no feelings for you whatsoever. and i realize now that there is absolutely no real excuse for the way i acted recently. but these feelings are fairly new to me. and i thought i had gotten over what i thought was just a crush. but it turns out, i love you. and i'm always going to love you, no matter what. you can stay mad at me and that's fine. because i love you." matt's leg began to bounce as he confessed everything. y/n got up from the chair and sat beside him. "and it's been torture to see you and chris working on lego sets when that was our thing."

"working on lego sets with chris meant nothing to me. sure it was fun and i enjoy spending time with him. but it was nothing compared to doing them with you." y/n placed her hand on his calmly, stopping his leg from shaking. he looked at her and when their eyes met, matt felt like he was on fire. like he was falling in love again.

"can we start over?"

"and erase our entire history? not a chance." y/n smiled. "let's just pretend the last week didn't happen and we can pick up where we left off, if that's okay with you."

"it's more than okay with me." matt chuckled. "just promise me you won't work on anymore lego sets with chris."

"from now on, i will only work on lego sets with the person i love."

"i love you too." matt smiled and placed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"you still have the hogwarts castle? or did you do it yourself?"

"i was hoping to start it with you."

"good. we can start it in the morning."

"why not right now?" matt pouted when y/n stood up.

"because i promised chris snacks and a pepsi. don't want to make him wait any longer for them."

"can't you just deliver them to him then come back? i miss you and i'm sure he'll understand."

"we'll see. but you'll understand if i don't return tonight?"

"of course. chris is important to you and i love that you guys get along so well."

"and i'm sure he'll understand it when i tell him i want to come up here to spend time with you."

"hurry back, love." matt chuckled and watched y/n disappear from his room. she walked into chris' room with the snacks and smiled at him.

"what took you so long?"

"i made up with matt and turns out, he loves me." she couldn't contain the excitement she was feeling.

"i told you he did. and i'm so happy for you." he chuckled and opened his pepsi. "i take it you want to spend time with matt again, right?"

"you're not mad, are you?"

"of course not. you're happy and that makes me happy." chris smiled. "just don't abandon me altogether."

"i promise to make time for you too, chris." she kissed his head and ran back up to matt's room, jumping on his bed. "he understood."

"great. now i can do something i've been wanting to do for months." matt pulled her close and finally kissed her. the feeling of her lips fitting perfectly with his was enough to make him feel like he was dreaming. thankfully, he wasn't. it was real and matt couldn't get enough.

being together was good for the both of them.

[jobean12-blog]

Asking for Trouble

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 971

Summary: You and Joel are attending the monthly 'town meeting' that Tommy runs and as hard as you try you can't help your boredom but mostly you can't help how badly you want Joel.

Author's Note: Well, this is nothing but my horniness over this man. I can't help it. Also my lovely friend @lizette50 shared the picture below with me and I nearly died. Anyway, thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: it's fun and flirty and tense, ora-l (m rec), a curse or two, and always some softness bc it's me

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

You can see this meeting is boring Joel and even though it seems like Tommy might be finishing up you can’t resist lifting your arms above your head with a stretch.

Joel’s eyes immediately shift to you, sweeping along the exposed skin of your stomach as your shirt rides up.

“Think it’s almost over?” you ask in a whisper.

He only grunts in response but keeps his eyes fixed on you.

“You look bored,” you muse as you slide your hand into his.

His fingers close around yours and he rubs his thumb across your knuckles.

“I’m tryin’ to listen,” he says quietly and you see the corner of his lips twitch with a smirk.

You turn your body into his, pressing against his side and softly kissing his neck.

“What are you doin’ darlin’?”

“Just saying hi.”

You press another kiss to his skin with a deep inhale.

He grinds his jaw and leans in close to your ear, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper.

“Not a smart move sweetheart. I’m always cravin’ a taste of you. Don’t make me haul you out of here over my shoulder.”

Your breath hitches and warmth slides over your skin. Tommy’s voice startles you and you fall back onto your toes with a frustrated huff.

Joel’s fingers, still holding yours, continue to lightly caress your skin and your senses build to an overwhelming state. His callouses scrap against your softness and his warmth permeates your skin. You can’t hold back the low moan that slips past your lips at the anticipation he creates.

His jaw ticks and you know he heard you. Turning, you see that his eyes have narrowed on your face as if sensing your thoughts, before dropping to your lips.

“Say the words, angel.”

“I’m ready to leave.”

His fingers tighten around your hand and he pulls you away from the wall, walking out the double doors with a brisk stride that leaves you practically jogging behind him.

Nothing registers as you pass by the other town members seated around the hall, their faces of surprise blurring together as you keep your sole focus on Joel.

You can see his shoulders tight with tension, his muscular back shifting underneath his button-down shirt with every movement, and you imagine raking your nails over all that strength.

You squeeze his hand tighter and he picks up the pace even more.

Once you reach the small house you share on the edge of the town he hauls you inside the door and slams it shut, pressing you against it and bracing his hands on either side of your head.

“They’re all going to know why we left,” he grits out.

“Like I care. And I know you don’t…maybe they’ll think it’s just because you’re so grumpy.”

He smirks and his eyes light up.

You press yourself flush against him, kissing along his jaw as your fingers slide down his chest and dance over the bulge in his jeans.

He groans and digs his fingers into the door, clearly trying to let you keep control of the situation.

After undoing his belt and working on the button of his jeans, you slowly start to unzip them but stop when his eyes snap to yours and he growls, “you’re testing my patience here, angel.”

His hips press into your palm and you can feel his thick arousal.

Your hand leaves his pants and you smooth your fingers along his chest then around his neck before weaving them through his hair and tugging hard to bring his lips to yours.

He rubs against your belly and you both break away on a groan.

“I know you need it right now, angel. You’re just dying for me to fuck you.”

Before you can respond he claims your mouth again, his arms falling from the door and circling around your waist to bring you closer. His lips move over yours, rough and demanding, the scrape of his beard leaving a lingering reminder with every pass.

You make a sound of protest against his mouth when you can’t get his lower body close enough, the ache building to the point of desperation.

With a moan you break the kiss, letting the corners of your lips edge into a sensual smile.

You drop to your knees and let your hands wander up his muscular thighs.

Above you, his breathing deepens, kicking up to a faster pace.

When you free him from his jeans he tilts his hips toward your mouth and pushes the head of his cock against your lips.

You hover just above the tip before dipping your head slowly and savoring every hard inch of him. Your eyes close in enjoyment and when your mouth wraps tightly around him a growl erupts from his throat and his brow starts to glisten with sweat.

He wants to stay still and take whatever you’ll give him, but he can’t stop his hips from undulating every so slightly toward the suction of your mouth.

“Fuck darlin’ you look so beautiful on your knees for me.”

In response to his words, you hum in the back of your throat, sending vibrations over his hard flesh. He grits his teeth at the sensation and hisses out your name, watching as you squeeze your thighs together from your position at his feet.

He feels the familiar tightening of his stomach, the muscles clenching and his breathing becoming harsher and slips from your mouth.

“I wasn’t done,” you whine as he lifts you.

You bury your face in his neck and kiss and nip along his skin. His long, thick fingers trail down the curve of your waist and tease the waistband of your pants. “I need to be inside you,” he murmurs. “I want to feel how wet you are for me angel.”

@hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @lorilane33 @kmc1989

[bearambles]

sober (haymitch a.)

words: 3.9k

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f + m receiving) , teasing (?), too much plot 😭

notes: this is so late! i am so sorry to whoever requested, i got super busy and couldn’t post it the day i planned. also, this is my first ever smut! so i am sorry if this is terrible, i’ll get better over time. enjoy!

_

The party lasted hours. Your feet hurt, your stomach is churning, and your head pounds. You've never wanted your district bed more than now. This place reeks of wealth and lies.

Unfortunately, skipping these monthly events would anger Snow. He already dislikes you and your district, so you have to do whatever it takes to please him. If that means enduring long nights of drinking and throwing up, so be it. It's better than death, you suppose.

There's only one other District 12 victor here with you, and he disappeared halfway through the night. Haymitch, despite being a good friend and your former mentor, is possibly the worst person to rely on in these social situations. He's been sitting at the bar for who knows how long, drinking who knows how much. It's only when the host literally announces it's time to leave that you find him, slumped over the counter on a stool.

"Haymitch? Come on, we have to go," you urge, shaking his shoulders.

"What? No, let me stay. I'm sleeping," he mumbles.

"You're not sleeping. You're fine. Here, I have one of those drinks that make you throw up. It'll sober you up enough to say goodbyes," you say, handing him the glass. He pushes it back towards you without even looking up.

"I don't want that Capitol shit."

"This Capitol shit will help you a lot right now. Haymitch, get up!" You push his head to the side so you can see his face. He opens his eyes to look at you.

He's only in his late twenties, but his eyes seem older. He looks as rough as he acts. His hair is too long, and his beard is starting to come in slightly, despite him saying he'd groom himself for this occasion. Still, he looks handsome. Not that it matters; his current state reflects his antisocial night.

"Please. I'm trying to keep us out of trouble. You've been alone all night. At least come say goodbye to people with me. Then we can go home, okay?"

If harshness isn’t working, you'll try being soft with him. Sometimes, just sometimes, it works. It seems to today.

He sighs and sits up, steadying himself with his palms flat on the counter. He reaches for the purple liquid and swallows it like a shot, squeezing his eyes shut and grimacing.

"Okay, I'll be back then," he says, going off to throw up.

You nod and take a seat on the stool next to where he was sitting, waiting. You can't help but feel guilty. You should have stayed with him longer that night before he went off on his own. You knew he'd go drinking, but you didn’t know it would get this bad.

Since you've known Haymitch, he's had a bit of a drinking problem. Mostly under control when he mentored you—never more than tipsy. But in recent years, as more of his tributes lost the Games, it's gotten worse. It's weighing on him, you can tell. You want to help so badly.

"Okay, let's go," he says, returning a few minutes later, running his fingers through his hair. He's clearly sobered up a bit, maybe even washed his face. His breath smells of mint.

The host and his wife are among about a dozen people remaining by the time you leave the bar and walk to the main room together. Nonetheless, you both put on a show, shaking hands and smiling, thanking them endlessly. You never know who's watching, present or otherwise.

As you make your rounds to the last few victors, Haymitch latches his arm closely with yours. The move surprises you; you realize he hasn't been this physical in a while. It seems to come with sobriety or maybe just part of the Capitol's show. Together, you almost look like a couple. It's odd.

When you leave through the doors, he doesn't let go of your arm. It's a cold night, and you shiver, but the warmth of his body next to yours feels weirdly nice.

"Thank you," you say, looking up at him on the train ride home.

"For what?" he asks, furrowing his brows.

"For taking the glass. I know you hate that stuff, but—"

"But I need to get sober," he says, looking away from you into the distance.

"I didn't say that, but it's nice when you are. I mean, it's helpful with the image when you aren't stumbling around—"

He detaches his arm from yours.

"So I shouldn't drink because the President said so?"

"He didn't say so, Haymitch. I'm saying so. You shouldn't drink because I say so."

"And why's that?"

"Because I like you better like this."

He goes quiet, then looks down at his feet, his hair falling in his eyes.

"Yeah, well, it's harder than it looks, sweetheart."

"I know that. I'm sorry," you say softly.

The rest of the ride is quiet. It's just the two of you on the train, and any sound you make seems to echo for ages. Neither of you wants to speak; too much is unsaid.

You care about him; you know that. You just aren't sure how. Though it seems increasingly clear to you in moments like this when all you want to do is tuck his hair behind his ear and kiss him softly. You have no idea how he'd feel about that, though. You have no idea how he feels most of the time.

In fact, just then, it's the first time he's seemed to feel bad about his drinking. And it doesn't seem like he cares about his health or the Capitol's opinion on his image. It seems like he feels bad for disappointing you.

When the train stops, you both get out, him first, then you. He offers his hand as you step down, and you take it with a slight smile. His hands are cold, as is the night.

Your houses are directly next to each other in Victor's Village, making the walk there excruciatingly awkward. You can't tell what he's thinking, or if he's thinking at all. Finally, after what feels like an hour, he speaks.

"That stuff is really nasty, you know that?" he says.

You look up at him. "The purging stuff?"

"No, the desserts they were serving," he says, rolling his eyes and bumping his shoulder against yours. "Yeah, the purging stuff."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You're right. What you said and stuff. That's all right. You're right."

You smile and look up at him. He looks back at you and smiles softly, then looks away. He clearly hates to admit it.

"Don't be cocky about it, though. And don't expect me to stop. It's not that easy."

"I don't. I just like you like this."

"Yeah, you mentioned that. What do you mean?"

You've reached your house, and he stops in front of your door, feet planted. He looks down at you with a questioning gaze, and his blue eyes seem to dart across your face. Your cheeks flush. You have no idea what to respond.

"You know, just... sober," you say, looking away.

"No, I know, but the 'like' part. What do you mean? Because you got all shy when you said it," he says, swaying a bit where he stands, impatiently waiting for a response.

"I don't know," you say quietly.

"You don't know?"

"No. I think we should go to sleep. You should go to sleep. No more drinks. At least wait until tomorrow."

You try to push past him to your door, but he takes both hands out of his pockets and gently shoves your shoulders back. Not hard, but enough to make you stumble. He gazes down at you and steps forward, closing the space between you.

"Whoa, you're so eager all of a sudden. Look at me," he says, tilting your head up with a hand under your chin. "Why are you so embarrassed?"

"I'm not."

"Yeah, you are. You like me?"

"Haymitch, stop. You're—" You stop, tears pricking at your eyes. He's teasing you, you're sure of it. The last thing you want is for him to figure out your feelings. Not after he's been your mentor, not after he's seen you at your worst, after he's been your friend (?) for this long. It doesn't make sense. You know that. And he knows that, most definitely. That's why you're sure he doesn't feel that way towards you. He can't.

"You're crying. I thought you were all tough?" he says.

He's right. You were tough. Crying makes you weak. You hate talking like this. So honestly.

"Stop it," you jerk away from his hand, which had crept up to your cheek. "Go to bed."

But you don't take a step forward, don't shove past him again. You just stand there, your breath heavy, looking away. He gazes at you like he's seeing you for the first time, his eyes darting from your eyes to your mouth to your body.

"I don't want to. I want to talk to you," he finally says.

"About what?" you say, still looking away.

"Us," he says softly.

"What about us?"

He takes a step forward.

"Come on, sweetheart. You're so good to me. Take care of me. Trust in me. Give me hope."

Your breathing speeds up as you feel his hand stoke your arm gently up and down as he speaks. You’d always been cautious of his words, so used to his drunken thoughts being untrustworthy and sometimes cruel. But this feels honest. Real.

“I know you feel something.” he says as you lift your head to look back at him. “You might not know what. I don’t know either. But c’mon.” 

He starts to lean closer and your eyes drift closed. Before you can even register, his lips are on yours, and you’re kissing back. Your hands hold his elbows and his hold your face. 

His mouth tastes of the mouthwash from the capitol washrooms. He’s so slow with you, like he’s trying not to scare you. You aren’t sure if he possibly could. 

Suddenly you pull away. 

“What’s wrong?” Haymitch asks, his eyes wide.

“We should go inside.” 

“Oh. Yeah.” He registers quickly what you mean. 

All along the village are cameras for the capitol to see what goes on. Although it’s unlikely you’d get in much trouble for a kiss, you never knew what would land you a meeting with snow. Or just become the talk of the next victor event. 

You push past him and unlock your door quickly, before turning back to him, motioning for him to come inside. By the time you close the door, he’s kissing you again, this time the careful act gone. He catches your lips and kisses you like his life depended on it. It’s messy and wet and you’re so turned on it’s insane. 

His hands both reach down to hold yours, and he pushes them up against the door. The motion catches you by surprise and you moan softly into his mouth. He hears you and holds down tighter on your wrists, just enough to feel but not to hurt. 

His knee starts to spread your legs apart slowly as he kisses down your neck, and you let his name slip from your mouth.

“Haymitch~”

He stops to look at you.

“Yeah? You like this?” He sounds like he’s genuinely asking. Like he needs to know. 

You nod, your brain already fuzzy. 

“Okay. Okay.” He sounds out of breath but resumes 

his task, getting down to your collarbone. 

Hes rough with his kisses when he’s below where any marks would be seen. As he unbuttons your shirt, he looks at you, smiling like an idiot. It hits you then that he seems to have wanted this as badly as you all along. He leans in to leave a soft kiss on your lips before pulling your sleeves off your arms and throwing your top to the floor. 

“Jesus…” He mutters as he looks down at your tits. 

You reach behind you to unhook your bra, and let it all forward and land next to your shirt. 

“Holy fuck.” 

You laugh quietly at his words. He looks up at you in awe and with a look of asking as he creeps his hands from your waist up to your chest. You nod and let out a sharp breath when his cold hands hold your tits and knead them slowly. 

You wonder then if he’d ever done this with a woman before. He was younger than you when he won, so probably not before the games. And after…he’d never really seemed the type. But then again, he was attractive and still young, so you couldn’t be sure. 

Besides him, you’d only been with one or two boys from district before you were reaped. They were, however, nothing like this. 

He takes one nipple between his thumb and pointer, pinching slightly. Between the pressure and his cold hands, you let out a noise of surprise and pleasure. 

“Does that hurt?” He asks

“No, just…it’s a lot.” You say through deep breaths. “K-keep going.”

He smiles and does the same with the other, and your hips jut forward slightly in reaction. He doesn’t notice, which you’re grateful for. You’re so eager it’s embarrassing. Every touch makes your stomach flip and your underwear wetter. 

Slowly he starts to kiss down from your collarbones to your chest and takes a breast in his mouth. He looks up at you as he sucks softly, his tongue swirling your nipple. His big eyes looking into yours makes you feel like you could cum then and there. you let out a moan instead. 

He plays with your breasts for a while longer before they’re nice and covered in both his spit and dark, red marks. He knew what he was doing, putting them where nobody could see. you thought of changing in front of a mirror days to come, just looking at them. Knowing it was from him. sober. He wants this. 

He gets to his knees before you can stop him, and begins to pull down your skirt. 

You’re left in your underwear, your slick having left a clear spot in the front. You turn your head in embarrassment as he touches up your thighs and leaves open mouth kisses. 

“All this from that, huh?” he asks, laughing softly 

“Shut up.” you mutter into your hand. 

“You want me to stop?” he asks, his fingers hooked under the sides of your panties. 

“N-no.”

“What was that sweetheart? C’mon, look at me.”

“Don’t stop.” you say, clearer now, making eye contact as he kneels in front of your pussy. You couldn’t be more vulnerable, and yet, you trust him with every inch of your being. 

He looks back at your core for a moment before licking a stripe up the thin fabric. You curse quietly and he pulls them down, the air hitting your heat before his tongue does. But when it does…

He laps at you like he’d wanted to for years, which you’re now sure that he has. The urgency makes your legs buckle and he uses both hands against your knees to hold them open. He switches between your folds and your clit, paying attention to both. Every so often he stops and just admires. 

At some point haymitch sucks at your clit, and your hands fly to his hair, pulling slightly. 

He lets out a groan of surprise against your core.

“Sorry, sorry…” you mutter, loosening your grip. 

“No, keep going, I like it.” he says, stopping to look up at you, his eyes nearly glazed over in bliss. 

You resume your hold on his head and tug as he continues. Between his lips and his tongue, you’re  overwhelmed. before you know it, you feel the coil in your stomach tighten. 

“Stop…stop…” you manage in between moans. 

He gives you one last kiss to your clit before standing up, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“You okay?” 

“Just don’t wanna finish yet.” you say without thinking, before getting flushed. Even after all that, you couldn’t believe you were speaking to him like this. Haymitch. 

He smiles lazily and goes in to kiss you again, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. It should repulse you, but instead, it turns you on more. He's so happy right now, and it’s so hot. 

“Do you wanna go to my bed?” you ask him when you get a breath, his forehead resting against yours. 

He picks you up and carries you. 

Haymitch knows your house as well as his from all the press training, meetings, and late night conversations you’ve had there. He practically lives with you at this point (Besides the sleeping over part. Usually. Unless he’d passed out.) 

He drops you on your mattress and pulls off his own shirt in one motion. Your breath is caught in your throat. 

You knew he was in shape, at least he was when he had mentored you all those years ago. But even now, behind the big shirts he wears and raggedy jackets, soft abs trace his stomach. His arms as big as your thighs. No wonder the pressure on your neck felt so nice. 

He sees you staring and smiles, leaning down to tuck your hair behind your ear. 

“You gonna say anything, pretty girl?” 

You try, but you find no words. Instead, you kiss him, and slowly trail your hands down his chest. you can feel raised scars and for a moment, remember what he’s been through. What you both have been through. 

You reach his belt and whisper into his mouth, 

“Can i?”

He nods against your forehead and you start to undo it, throwing it to the side. You pull his pants down with urgency and run your palm against his boxers. 

He lets out a noise you’ve never heard him make before, a mix between a whimper and a moan. You smile and start to palm him faster, before taking him out of his underwear and looking between you at his length. 

He’s bigger than you expect, and definitely bigger than the boys you’ve been with before. A solid seven inches and thick. Your eyes can’t look away and your breath rises and falls. 

He takes your hand softly into his and guides it to his length. He looks up at you as he does, searching for any hesitation in your eyes. Instead, you look up at him before flipping you both over quickly, so you sit on his thighs. 

He’s strong, but so are you, and he doesn’t resist as you take charge over him. He does, however, look a bit surprised, and reaches to hold your hand again. You take it and kiss it, which he smiles at. Then, you lean down, and let a glob of spit dribble from your mouth to his cock. 

“Jesus christ…” he mutters, as you use your free hand to pump up and down. “When did you…fuck…feels so good sweetheart”

You smile and take him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down quickly. His other hand still holding yours, he grips at your hair (much gentler than you did his) and makes a make-shift ponytail so he can see your pretty face. 

Despite the view, his eyes flutter shut in pleasure, and your pace quickens. You feel him pulse inside your mouth and you’re sure he’s about to cum. 

You take him as deep as you can before pulling off, leaving his cock hard as a rock and covered in your saliva. You admire your work for a moment before he reaches forward and pulls you on top of him by your hips so you’re right against his chest. 

“C’mere” he moans, fucked out, before taking his cock in his own hand and looking over your shoulder to position himself in front of your entrance. 

“You want this?” he asks, taking your cheek in his free hand and stroking his thumb against it. 

“Please.” you whisper. 

Slowly, he inserts himself into you, catching your moans in his mouth as he kisses you slowly. He stretches you out so well, and your slick helps him move without much pain. Still, you bite down on his lip at the feeling of being full once he’s in. You let out a whimper. 

“I know baby, I know. Shhhh. Tell me when to move, okay?” he looks into your eyes. 

For a moment you just kiss him, his mouth so warm on yours and his cock so warm inside you. You could die like this. 

Then, you pull away, and lift your hips, before slowly moving back down. 

“Fuck…” he moans, before catching into the pace you set and moving you up and down on his cock. “So perfect for me, yeah? You feel that?” 

You nod dumbly at his words. He could say anything to you at this moment, and you’d agree. He feels so good. So right. 

“You wanted this huh? Is that why you want me sober? To fuck me?” he asks, and you shake your head as you bounce on his dick. 

“Hm, but that’s part of it, yeah?” he insists, “You like this. Me. C’mon sweetheart, you’re needy. That's okay, I'm givin’ it to you. I'm here.” 

You fall against him and place your head on his shoulder as he fucks into you like you’re a doll. He knows just what to say to get you so embarrassed and so wet. The words only add to your pleasure and you can feel yourself getting close. 

“Haymitch…” you moan against his shoulder. 

“M’ close pretty thing.” 

He takes one of the arms holding your hips and moves to your clit, rubbing quickly. The feeling sends you over the edge. 

“Fuck, haymitch, i’m cumming~” you mutter, raising your head to look at him as you fletch down and your orgasm washes over you. 

As you come down from your high, he speeds up rutting into you, and you put each hand on one of his shoulders for support. His eyes are closed and his mouth slightly open as he mind your name over and over like a prayer. 

He lifts you off of his cock and back onto his thighs before cumming all over your belly. You reach a hand down to stroke him as he does, but he catches your wrist. He’s sensitive, you can tell, and you laugh softly. 

“Sorry pretty girl. Made a mess.” he says, looking in between the two of you. Between his cum and yours, there’s not a part of either of you that isn’t slick. He takes a finger and swipes a bit of his own before putting it in front of your mouth. Grinning, you take it in your mouth and suck, tasting him.

“Jesus.” he says softly, as you lay down next to him, your face buried into his neck. 

You lay there like that for a moment, breathing. His hair sticks to his face in certain places, and his cheeks are rosy. The reality of what had happened hits you.

“You know, this isn’t the only reason you should drink less-“ You begin, propping your head up on your hand. 

He sighs. 

“I know. I’m too happy right now for lectures though, alright?” 

You consider for a moment before deciding that’s fair. Laying back down, you cuddle into his side.

“You admit this is part of why though, huh?” he says after a few moments, and you can hear the smugness in his voice.

“Was it worth it?” you ask

There’s a pause.

“I’d do anything for you.” he answers.

And for now?

That’s all you need. 

-

tysm for reading! like + reblog if you enjoyed :)

[taeminsung]

♡ ˚⁎⁺˳ ── love comes again..

pairing ||  bang chan x reader summary || chan finds you again, but this time, doesn't let go. genre/s || love trope. fluff. romance. trope || childhood best friends masterlist || stray kids as love tropes mina’s notes ||  the first chapter of stray kids as love tropes! please enjoy ♡ 

Seeing trainees in the halls of the company building always pulled at Chan’s heartstrings. The memories, both good and bad, flash in his mind. It served as a time that seemed to have hardened him in some respects but in other cases made me incredibly soft when it came to people who supported him during that time, mostly his kids. Yet, he couldn’t help but remember someone whose smile warmed his breaking soul during that time. Still to this day, you crossed his mind, often leaving him wondering if you changed your number or what you were doing these days. It was the late nights when Minho makes sure that everyone is fed that Chan’s mind drifts back to you the most.

˚⁎⁺˳

Chan, your soft voice filled the small space in the studio JYP had given him. Chan hummed in response, pulling his eyes off his computer scene to see you standing at the door, an exhausted look on your face, yet food in your hands. You need to take a break to eat, you smile, the light not meeting your eyes. He knew that you stayed up extremely late trying to nail the choreography for a monthly evaluation. Yet, he also knew that this one didn’t go great for you, while you managed to get the dance, the rap you were asked to do took a hit. This was the part he hated the most. Getting close with people who had the possibility to leave.

Instead of saying anything, he returned the smile of someone who had been his friend since you were both young, motioning for you to come into the space, moving papers on the desk for you to put stuff down. Silence filled the room, with no air of awkwardness, as you both ate the food, Chan looking at his computer every few bites to adjust something. The thing was, he knew that there was always a chance that you would get eliminated as a trainee but there was also something in his chest that was telling him to not put up the walls around his heart for you.

While Chan was nearing debut, having barely dealt with the blow of losing both Minho and Felix, he couldn’t even fathom the thought of losing you too. You were sunshine in the dark clouds that filled his head. A small hope that maybe things will work out. It wasn’t until a week later, when your tradition of bringing him food late at night, didn’t happen that he got nervous. Were you just in the practice room? Taking vocal lessons with Seungmin? Pulling himself out of his studio, he made his way around the building, poking his head into various rooms, having no luck in finding you. It wasn’t until Chan overheard Sana say I still can’t believe they got eliminated to Momo that he just knew without asking, that it was you.

As he made his way back to his studio, he made a small vow to himself to not get close to any of the other trainees, even if he made it through debut, because he couldn’t stand the way his heart was breaking for a third time. Once the door clicked shut, he let himself fall to the floor, burying his face into his knees, and letting the tears fall. A hand landed on his back, moving up and down before a sob rocked his body. He would never forgive himself for not making sure to protect you more.

˚⁎⁺˳

Schedules leading up to MAMA were going to be the death of Chan. He could tell it was also going to be for his members as well. It felt like little things were going to keep going wrong in their rehearsals and the stress was starting to get to them. They just needed one day of things to go right. Just one. Chan knew that getting to rehearse in their stage outfits would help and was relieved when he walked into the practice studio that day to see half the members dressed. Three days left, he reminded himself. Three days then a day of rest for everyone. They could do it. He needed to do it for them.

Struggling to not let his exhaustion show on stage for their ending, he could see Jeongin struggling just the same. Three… two… one…, Chan counted before the lights cut and he reached for his youngest member. Pride swelled in his chest that they were able to pull the performance off and nothing went wrong. Now, all he wanted was to get home, change into his favorite sweats, crawl under the blankets, and not emerge for as long as he possibly could. As he collected his kids and ushered them backstage, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him when he saw someone who looked strangely like you pass in front of him. There was no way. Right? You’d surely contact him if you knew you both were going to be at MAMA. Yet, he cursed himself because he didn’t even know there was a chance you’d be here.

A million questions seemed to be running through his head because Changbin was now dragging him through the halls to their room backstage so they could get a quick rest before going back to sit with the other idols. Would you not tell him you debuted? It’s not that your friendship ended on bad terms, but Chan was always too nervous to reach out to you after the elimination. Did you blame him for it? Did you hold a grudge against him for making it? Lost in his own world of questions and thoughts of you, he was dragged back into reality when Seungmin asked Minho, Hyung, isn’t that y/n? Chan's eyes were then glued to the monitor as he watched your group perform an amazing piece.

Even after your group was off stage, he couldn’t help but be stuck on the way you performed. All the nerves you used to have in the practice room were gone. Now you were confident in the same way he knew Hyunjin to be confident on stage. What felt like pride again was swelling his chest knowing that you were able to reach your dream. His best friend since childhood making a name on stage. You stepped into your calling and didn’t let the terrible moment in your past slow you down, or so he hoped. Chan hyung, we are going to grab dinner before going back to the dorms. You coming? Han questioned before heading back out to the stage.

The rest of the night went on and all of Chan’s thoughts were consumed by you. How had you been? Were you happy? Did you pick up on composing? The memory of the late nights in the studio, your head resting on his shoulder while he explained what he was doing consumed his vision for a fleeting moment. Had you finished that song you and Han were working on? Did you miss him like he missed you? So caught up in his own mind, he just let the motions of the night carry him through. It wasn’t until he was sitting at the restaurant with Han calling your name that Chan snapped back to reality. His members invited your group out for dinner. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips when you took the empty seat next to his.

Conversations flowed among the many people gathered around, alcohol bottles littering the table in celebration of the awards won and performances completed. Chan listened intently as you explained to Han and Seungmin what happened after you got eliminated from JYP and how you managed to find the current group you were in. The breath he didn’t even know he was holding escaped although a little shaky. The tension seemed to dissipate when you said you didn’t hold any resentment for the past and couldn’t be happier because it let you to where you are now.

It was when you turned to him after everyone started talking again that his skin seemed to feel like it was on fire when you looked at him. I’m so happy to see Minho and Felix back with you, you whispered so only he could hear. You deserved to have this group, a smile pulling at your lips. Maybe it was the way the familiar feeling of your presence calmed him down while also giving him newfound energy. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to you, after… well after everything, you continued, I just didn’t know how to tell my best friend that I wasn’t good enough. The smile turning sad as your eyes dropped.

Chan’s hand twitched to reach out to you and tilt your chin up. It didn’t sit well with him that you could ever think you weren’t good enough. For who? For him? Because he knew that you were more than enough to be called his best friend and he would be damned to hear you say otherwise. But we made it, your face tilted up to look at him again. Something about the ‘we’ in your sentence broke something in his chest. That’s all he ever wanted. For you both to make it and settle into your dreams. Maybe it was the way he now viewed you, not the little one who would follow him around, but the confident person that you had grown up to become. In his mind, he reached out to caress your cheek, but in reality, he settled for You’ll always be enough for me.

Both of you were pulling back into the chaos of the conversation between the two groups as the debate on best dramas was in full swing. As Chan saw you smile wide at the mention of a show, it dawned on him what the feeling in his chest had been since he saw you in passing backstage. This time away from you, but always thinking of you, gave him the space to understand that he didn’t want anyone else to fill the space next to him where you used to be. No. What he wanted was for you to be back in the space. Maybe a little closer this time. The crushing weight of the realization that he was in love with you hit him before he even blinked.

Adjusting his position, he moved his leg so that it would be pressed against yours as he moved his chair slightly closer to you as well. His eyes noticed that your hands sat in your lap and before he could even think if it was a good idea, his hand was extending to lacing his fingers with yours. Daring a glance at your face, he could see the pink that dusted your cheeks and the way your smile slowly grew, eyes focused on your intertwined hands. When you didn’t pull away, joining in another conversation with Hyunjin instead, he knew that maybe you shared the same feelings as him. All he knew was at the end of tonight, he would make sure he had your number and would never let you go from his side again.

All the time for catching up could be spent tomorrow in the comfort of either of your places, filling each other in on everything that was missed, including the feelings that were already taking over.

from mina with love ♡ ˚⁎⁺˳ ── thank you for reading! ♡ tag list || @orchid-mantis-petals; @i-dontevenknowman; @deadcrow-donteat

[thereticx]

ᎠᏆᏙϴᎡᏟᎬ́Ꭼ

♰Pairing: Geto Suguru x Reader

♰Warnings: toxicity(all characters), smoking, drinking, sexual content, cheating, home wrecking, infidelity

♰Author's Note: Geto is such a beautiful character and I desperately wanted to write about him since I have read every fic possible.

“What would your poor wife think if she saw you fucking with me?”

“You mean ex wife”

“Whatever”

He didn't remember when the chase first started. It might've been on the celebration of his fourth year as a married man or maybe–at your father's monthly dinner with family friends.

There, he first noticed the daggers his dear wife shot at you. She tried to play it cool, saying that you're only there for the show and that you're too young to understand any of the talks at the table.

Geto reassured her like always, with a kiss and a good fuck right after. He chanted over and over again ‘you’re the only one’-a truth that'll soon turn into a good for nothing lie.

“It's just in your head”

“No it's not. She's staring at you whenever we’re over at their house. I don't like her. She's bad news”

Geto chuckled, stroking her jaw with his fingers. He gently kissed her lips before lowering his hand to squeeze her naked thigh “Do you hear yourself?She's like twenty. No need to worry over a college girl”. His wife smiled, almost relieved. She wanted to believe her husband, but something deep down told her no to–that that college girl wanted what's hers–you wanted him,Geto.

The man tucked his bangs away from his face and bowed down, sucking at the delicate skin of her neck.

”Fuck,he is hot” One of your friends pointed out, zooming over the picture you just showed her. Her manicured nails danced over the screen carefully, analyzing every detail the picture showed.

”Yes, he is. Although his wife is kind of a bitch” Mumbling under your breath you continued playing with your lighter ”Why?”

You huffed, searching into your bag for something that might cool you off. The pack was almost empty even though you bought it in the morning ”Want one?” She smirked, making herself more comfortable on the kitchen counter ”Sure. Now, tell me. What is this wife of his like?”

Taking a drag of the cigarette you responded ”Insecure. She keeps watching my every move when they're over for dinner. And whenever I speak she just starts snorting” Venting to your friend about your problems wasn't exactly on your to do list. Only when your father called you asking you to make yourself busy and not attend dinner tonight, you freaked out.

”She told your father?For what?Can't she just talk to you like a normal person?”

”Apparently not. She just made my dad uninvite me to a dinner hosted by my own family” The call was a short one, your dad explaining that maybe it'll be for the best if you make yourself busy and skip this time. However, he accidentally slipped out and mentioned that Mrs. Geto did not feel comfortable around you.

”Damn. Maybe you should give her something to be really uncomfortable about”

Blowing the smoke out you put out the cigarette in the ashtray ”Maybe I should"

She was furious. Seeing you in a corner with her husband, chatting some nonsense.

”Your tattoos really suit you” He smiled at the compliment, taking another sip of his drink. Geto wasn't much of a talker, preferring the idea of just listening. Surprisingly enough, he liked talking to you. You were a good company, despite his wifes words. Perhaps you spend a little too long staring at his lips, trying to play it cool like it was nothing. However, he found himself staring at your exposed chest as well. The dress was awfully tight and maybe a little too revealing.

”What?You don't have any?” Geto asked, supporting his weight on the side of the counter.

Shaking your head you pursued ”No no, I do. Only in more private places”

”Oh”

”Unfortunately I can't show you. Your wife is already up my trail for some reason. I don't want to add fuel to the fire”

Geto bit the inside of his cheek, feeling ashamed for some reason. He fidgeted with his now empty glass without looking at you ”I don't blame her. Her husband is quite charming” You admitted while grabbing your jacket ”If you'll excuse me, I'm going for a smoke. The place is already too crowded for my liking”

Geto scanned your body as you left, the fabric of the black dress riding up as you stepped away from the room. Blinking rapidly, he moved his attention to the table where his wife was, she, sporting a look of pure anger and jealousy. He was fucked.

”Yeah-right there….” His hips buckled up faster, fucking into his wife cunt at a brutal pace.

She yelled his ear off in the car and in the lift, talking nonstop about you shamelessly flirting with him. And, to avoid another cold night on the couch he did what he always did.

”Ffuck-” He groaned, chasing the euphoric sense of release for the third time that night. Geto was tired, yet desperate to make his wife happy again. He wanted to prove himself as loyal and caring, the perfect husband who loves no one else but the one underneath him.

She clinged to his bicep, her walls squeezing him painfully. She was close, he could tell ”Give it to me” He demanded, circling his thumb over her clit, her body surrendering under the massive amount of pleasure.

When she came undone, Geto pulled out, his dick still painfully hard. Something was wrong. For the first time in years he used his hand to get rid of the erection between his legs. The water was hot, the windows becoming foggy as Geto jerked himself off. His eyes were closed, a figure coming to his mind. A figure much younger than him, a woman of twenty years of age, one that he imagined kissing, moaning his name, shaking while he held her.

You wished nothing more than the feeling of guilt to disappear. Two weeks after that conversation you had with Geto, the world seemed to shift around you. Punishing you for going after a married man. You only wanted to spite his wife, nothing more. Yes, you found Geto attractive as hell but that ring he wore put a label on him as unavailable.

Two weeks after that damned conversation, you ran onto him a few times. It was only just innocent talking and a little bit of lingering sights. You two laughed, getting along surprisingly well. Geto understood you like no other. He was patient, listening to you for hours, while the ashtray filled up with cigarettes.

He desperately wanted to taste the nicotine off your tongue and rip your clothes to see where you were inked.

”Maybe you should go. Your wife is probably going mad you're not home already”. Truth be told, you didn't want him to go. His presence started to grow on you.

Geto pressed his lips together, the ring on his bottom lip making itself noticeable to you “How can I only see your lip piercing now?”

“I have had it since I was about your age, although my wife is not very fond of it. Says it's past my time”

You chuckled softly. Was his wife blind? He looked perfect. With long black hair, gorgeous dark eyes and those lips with that piercing. Geto was utterly dreamy “She's wrong. It suits you. You look…hot”

Now it was his turn to laugh. He ran his hand through his hair, silky strands falling on his broad shoulders. Geto felt a strange sense of warmth, more like a desire–that's how he knew it was time to leave.

He quickly got in the car, sparring you no glance as he drove off. Was it wrong to openly admit that he was attractive? Was that the reason why he ran away? Next time you'd think twice before doing something like that again.

You cleaned up after you two and entered the house. No one was there beside you. The rooms were all dark, a pregnant silence engulfing the whole place. This way you liked it better-when it was just you with your thoughts, no one to question you or distract you.

No, your family was by no means a source of annoyance-you just grew to love being all by yourself or..used to.

I should apologize

And that's what you did as soon as you saw him again.

After a rough and tiring day of classes and assignments you decided to treat yourself and go shopping. Who knows?You might be lucky.

Seeing Geto walk around the shop, almost lost, made you sympathetic, so you approached him with a smile. He was looking at some dresses, inspecting them carefully ”What's the occasion?”

He licked his bottom lip and said ”On Sunday we're having a party. It's my wife's birthday . I wanna treat her with something”.

For some unknown reason, your heart became heavy. You hated how much he cared about her. How he was always trying to make her happy and accomplished. It's honestly a pity how she treated him till this very moment.

That bitch doesn't deserve him

”I have some kind of experience in this department. I can help you if you want”

”Thank you”

Two hours later and you were still shopping, only at a different store. You showed him some good examples, dresses that were sexy and yet simple. If it were you–the more the better.

”What about this one?” You showed him a long dress with a slit and the perfect cleavage cut. It was a darker shade of red, almost a wine color–a seductive one.

He scanned the piece for a moment before touching the material ”I think this is it. Will it fit her?”

”I can try it on if you don't mind. We are quite similar in size….I think” You were hopeful that he'll agree. It's only a dress after all. You weren't trying to impress him–no. Definitely not.

Geto looked hesitant but still, he really wanted the dress to fit. This could help ”Yeah.Sure.Ill wait on the couch”

You were excited, entering the changing room as fast as you could.

”So, what do you think?” You asked, sitting there, in front of him. He looked up from his phone and his eyes fixated on your pretty figure. The dress was almost like a second skin, resting on your body effortlessly. Geto didn't even realize he was staring at you before you pointed it out ”Geto, what's the verdict?”

The man stood up and got closer to you, closer than usual ”You are beautiful–I mean it's beautiful..Yeah”

His words made you blush ”Actually it's kinda tight here–”You gestured to your chest ”But I don't think it will be a problem for her” Geto nodded before taking his wallet out.

”It was a pain to zip it up. Can you help me?” You batted your eyelashes innocently at him, taking his hand in yours. He bit the inside of his cheek and allowed to be dragged into the dressing room by you.

Staring in the mirror, you felt his fingers unzip the dress with no effort, his fingers lingering on your back a bit more ”You think you're smart. Don't you?” He smirked, grabbing you by the waist and pinning you against his chest ”Finding this lame excuse only to be undressed by me. Desperate girl” Geto kissed your shoulder, dragging the fabric further down with no warning.

Your chest was exposed, along with a small piece of ink under your left breast ”And that's one..” He whispered, folding your tits, while he dropped the dress to the floor.

You saw him lower his hand, tracing your belly, to your pelvis where the second tattoo was revealed and then pressed on your clothed core.

You sucked in a breath when Geto dragged your panties down until they rested around your thighs ”I don't want to hear a sound from you or you're not getting dicked down”

He sank three of his fingers in your cunt, the stretch making your legs quiver. The ache was painful as he didn't have the patience to prep you before. Geto started to finger you rapidly, pushing your body towards the mirror, your breasts getting mushed. You tried to control your moans, truly but something about the way he moved his digits made you lose your mind. A broken moan escaped your lips and as soon as it did, Geto pulled out ”What did I tell you? Gues you'll have to cum by yourself”

”B-but you can't leave me like this. Im sorry-”

He exhaled before getting down on his knees ”Spread your legs”

God…he was disgusting

What a beautiful sight that was….with you on his bed–in the same bed he shared countless nights with his wife. How is he gonna fix this?

You shifted on the bed, your face hiding in the pillow. Geto, no matter how much guilt stabbed at his conscience, he couldn't resist but to place his cold lips on your naked back, breathing for a short second the scent of the woman who now was all he thought about.

”Its cold”

Geto smiled, kissing your shoulder and playing with your hair ”Hmmm..” He sneaked his arm around your waist, holding you close to his chest. The butterflies in his chest made him uneasy. Geto had no intention to screw around with you, definitely not to catch feelings for you either. But it happened.

”She's gonna be home in an hour. I think it's best if you go” His words struck you directly in the heart. Although you were aware of the place you found yourself having sex and with who–you still dreamed of a possibility that it was you who bore his last name, not her. Yet, you were the intruder, the homewrecker, the bitch, the whore who chose to destroy a happy marriage and to fuck the husband of another woman.

Geto's wet kiss on your jaw brought you back from dreamland ”C'mon. I'll help you”

You pulled away from him and got up ”No need. I can handle it”

”Don't get mad. What do you want me to do?”

”For starters, you could stop treating me like a simple hook up that you just send home after” You argued, angrily putting back your clothes. He stayed there, stunned, contemplating what to say next.

He grabbed you by the hips and glued his lips to your tattoo ”You are not a hookup. I'm sorry if that came out wrong. But she can't catch us like this. She's still my wife”

Tears started to gather in your waterline, avoiding his touch you put on your jacket and grabbed your phone ”She is your wife…Yeah right. And what am I exactly?To you?!”

”My love”

”Well, it doesn't feel like it”

Three weeks and you still avoided him. No text, no calls, nothing. The fight you had with Geto left you with no choice but to reflect on your relationship–if you can call it that.

Six months of sneaking around, of lies, and hot showers where you would aggressively rub at your skin until red painful marks would be visible. You needed to be cleansed of your sin and you needed closure.

The water had long got cold in the tub. The wine bottle was almost empty as you poured another glass. Your eyes were puffy and your skin had wrinkled.

A mess..that's what you were. A mess you created

The number was already dialed, you only had to press the call button.

”Take it like a good girl” He groaned, pinning her down.

His wife held onto him for dear life as he fucked his dick into her cunt relentlessly . She knew something was bothering him but the way he expressed this anger did not annoy her at all. She enjoyed it.

”Baby baby–faster please” She moaned, meeting his harsh thrusts. Geto manhandled her as he pleased. Smashing her face in the pillow–the same one you last rested.

His hair tickled his hip bones as the black strands got longer and longer ”Fucking greedy–” The heat was unbearable, his orgasm approaching. Geto emptied himself inside his wife, allowing himself a few until he calmed down.

She felt him pull out, his cum dripping down her thighs. She turned around to face him, her belly barely noticeable ”What's bothering you?”

”Nothing” He stroked her cheek ”It's nothing”.

”You sure?” She pressed on.

Geto let out a fake laugh, his fingers grazing her tummy ”Hope I didn't disturb the little one”

She reached up for him, settling on his lap, locking her lips with his in a wet kiss ”You were quite rough–I love it”

As they kept on kissing, swirling their tongues together her phone rang ”Don't pull away”

She smirked before leaning back to get her phone ”I'll cut them short”

”Yes?”

The world went dull, quiet. The wine was spilled on the bathroom floor, mixing with the bubbled water.

Your head was thrown back, your eyes closed, smiling to yourself as you listened to the screams on the other side.

What a beautiful mess you created.

[w2soneshots]

Can you make a short one about us singing Harry’s distrack home alone and he brings the boys home and they just hear us singing it and cooking. And We Get scared and emberesed all all it is just super fluffy

Caught -W2S

words: 0.5k+

warnings: none.

summary: when you’re home alone you subconsciously start singing Harry’s old diss track. But unbeknownst to you four of the sidemen are listening.

notes: I love this idea! I think it's time for my monthly 'sidemen diss tracks' rewatch😂. Enjoy babe!🌟💞

"Creature was shit. Why did we have to wait four months for it?" I sang quietly as I made myself dinner. "You said you were evolving, but you didn't do bits. You just evolved into the first male with tits." I continued before taking a sip of the wine I just poured. "You said you had to get some things off your chest. So, tell me, why the fuck do you still have breasts?"

I've been with Harry for years. We met just as he moved to London and immediately hit it off. So I was present for the entire diss track era, meaning I have unintentionally learned the lyrics to Harry's 'Ksi Sucks' song. Along with the fact it's recently gone viral and is all over TikTok. "Yeah, you're leaving the Sidemen, but, thankfully. You made the other guys. But you didn't make me. So I can stand here on my own two feet. As I chat shit about you on this old-school beat." The pan sizzled as the chicken cooked, and a puff of steam erupted into the air.

I heard a chuckle and I jumped, along with a small screech from my mouth. I quickly whirled around to see Harry, Ethan, JJ and Simon stood in my living room, with massive smiles on their faces. "Fuckin hell you scared the shit out of me!" Harry chuckled. "were you just singing my diss track?" My face turned red from embarrassment. "Uhm... yea it's stuck in my head." I replied. All four of them burst out laughing.

"Are you hungry? I made way too much food." I asked as the boys sat down on the sofa. "Yea sure, that would be great." Harry answered. The boys nodded their heads happily. I smiled lightly then returned to cooking the food. Once it was finished I plated it up onto five different plates then everyone came to sit down.

"So how come you all came back here?" I asked after a few minutes. "We need to make some last minute decisions for our next shoot so I said we could do it at our place." Harry replied. I nodded "well you could've sent me a quick text Haz. Maybe I wouldn't have been caught singing." I said sarcastically. A small rumble of laughter came from Ethan. "You were pretty good to be fair." Simon joked. I rolled my eyes and continued eating my food. Since I've known Harry for so many years I'm pretty comfortable with the boys and have amazing friendships with the girls (especially Freya since she was also here from the very beginning).

Once everyone had finished JJ offered to clear the plates away but I told him that I'd do it and for him to get on with the work he needed to do. After cleaning up I headed into the bedroom to watch tv. I heard many laughs and loud talking. "It's going to take them ages to finish that if they keep messing around." I thought. But after almost an hour they were finished and Harry was crawling into bed next to me.

[taissaswifelowkey]

playpen

pt i

pt ii

rhiannon and afab detective reader bc we need more detective readers???

a brilliant detective falls into the hands of a cunning journalist, literally and metaphorically

a/n: yeah i couldn’t wait anymore, sweetpea defender. i also got my knowledge from any fictional detective media i consume so don’t come for my neck please 🫤 the “obliviousness” is toned to an average amount, just the normal level if that makes sense? like the reader is not 100% clueless. they don’t interact a lot but i promise they will in the next chapter. thoughts are in italics and bold, proofread but knowing me there still might be mistakes left. i wanted to try something new but idk maybe it should have stay in the drafts. enjoy reading and drop feedback if you have any 🤠

warnings: for the sake of the plot some details have been changed but there are still major spoilers if you haven’t watched the entirety of sweetpea!! swearing, mentions of blood, implied use of other weapons, dead bodies, stabbing, murder, slightly obsessive behaviour, stalking, a few implicit suggestive thoughts but is is rather vague. purely self indulgent and GAY SOOOO GAY you already knowww

it starts below the cut 🙂‍↕️ (i also realise that placing the pictures before the indication looked better)

Another body found near an alley of a nightclub. He couldn’t be any more than forty, is neatly shaved and is dressed in a suit. Clearly, the killer has a preference of victims. There is obviously a pattern. Your colleague DCI Farrow sees it. She is the only one who understands that your seemingly small community has a serial killer looking around and doesn’t infantilise you like the rest of the crew, or tells you to not get carried away like your boss, DI Diane St-John. Just thinking about them makes you grit your teeth. What use is it to join the police and helping families if it’s to play ill jokes and pranks and dismissing you every chance they have? And frankly, this killer is starting to get on your nerves. All credibility that you successfully kept is getting tossed and the same goes for Miranda.

You crouch down, assessing the man’s corpse. Fourteen stab wounds in all. Neck, chest, abdomen and hands are impacted. Viciously impacted.

“It never gets prettier, does it?” A voice muses beside you. Farrow looks down at the man, a slight despaired tone in her voice.

With a scoff you stand up, sparing the body one last glance before you pull out your notepad.

“If only it could just get easier for us.” You mutter. She hums, looking ahead as a small crowd of journalists gathered near the crime scene.

“In any case, they’re getting the attention they wanted.”

“You think they want to get noticed?”

She flips through her notes and beckons to come forward. “See here? They didn’t even wait for a week, not even three days before they hit again. Literally.”

“People like me, men like me are in danger! We want answers!” You both snap your heads to a man dressed in neon. Deciding to keep Farrow’s theory in mind, you march to the man, slowly raising your hands and putting yourself between St-John, who was just sputtering at the man’s words. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen her this speechless.

“Sir, please calm down—”

“Oh. Oh, I see what’s going on around here. What’s next you’re going to tell me to take a sip of water? Ask me if, I don’t know, my monthly testosterone levels are rising again?”

Is this guy serious?

“You’ll get put in a cell where you can calm down your testosterone levels, if that’s what you wish.” You simply stated, your stare locked on his. Two journalists stifle a laugh and get a warning glance from the volatile man.

“I now understand what it's like to be on the other side. From then on, consider me a feminist:”

And with that he shakes his head, leaving a bewildered Diana and a confused Farrow.

The remaining journalists leave the scene and coroners ask if they can carry the body away.

“The ball’s in your court now.” Diane shrugs, leaving before you could even utter a word about the theories you came up with.

Always welcome to hearing out others that one isn’t she.

And then a week passed and you were in your office meticulously piecing everything together on your own. Farrow got the credit card details of all the partygoers who attended the nightclub the evening of the murder. You set the file aside, mulling over your reasonings.

It makes sense. Same patterns, same type of victims. The killer’s got an MO. That helps. What doesn’t, is your crew thinking you and Farrow are completely deluded. So much so that someone thought it was funny to hide your PC, with a note attached on it which read Thought I might give you a break. Don’t wanna see our favourite detective get a burnout cos you’re the only one who actually refills the coffee machine xx

Pinching your forehead, you open your laptop and profile your victims, verifying their last whereabouts to give you a clear start. The last victim was at a nightclub. Anyone who was there could potentially be a suspect.

You peer at the file and scan down names of every credit card holder. You figure you’d do half and Farrow would take care of the rest.

It was funny that you found yourself interrogating the yelling man, whose name you found out is Jeff.

“It would be great if you could, I don’t know, maybe pass a message? Perhaps to the families? Don’t you realise the gravity of our situation here?” He sputters. You already feel a headache approaching and are this close to dismissing him. He swirls the cup of non dairy coffee and swallows it in one gulp like it’s a shot.

“Sir, I promise you we are doing everything that we can. Being cooperative and understanding would help—”

“There you go again with the keep calm thing. Don’t tell me to be calm. You know I can write a report about you in The Gazette, right? Yeah?Because I literally work there. And now I really want to get on that article so I’m going to be very quick. I went with my team to the club, we had drinks, a karaoke session, then I went home.”

A fly lands on his head, to which he aggressively bats away. He’s evidently aggravated and you think it’s best to let him off. Besides, you had to give it to him. His stories match his other colleagues. Everyone working at The Gazette were together.

You feel like you had a fresh breath of air once Jeff left your office. Working with him must be a pain.

The last person you had to interrogate was Rhiannon Lewis. You recognise her as one of the journalists who laughed at Jeff. You would too. The colour of his clothes were just as loud as his personality.

She looked nervous, holding on to her purse, her doe flickering everywhere before landing on yours. Usually…this kind of behaviour would be taken into account. But perhaps she has never been called in by the police before?

“Rhiannon Lewis, is it?”

You greeted her and presented yourself, trying to make her feel a bit at ease, extending your hand to her. Her skin is so soft and featherlight it’s a barely there contact. The touch grounds her to reality for a bit. She almost didn’t let go until you spoke again.

“Thank you for coming here. Also you can sit, you know?”

With a tight lipped smile, she nodded and sat down. Putting the purse on the floor she cleared her throat and slowly inhaled.

“It’s not a problem Officer…Detective?”

“Either which is alright. And don’t worry about the procedure. I’ll just ask a couple of questions and then you can go, alright? Can you do that?”

She feels herself cooling down a couple degrees, the soft yet directive tone carried in your voice sending her chills.

“…Yes.”

“Good.”

Though she doesn’t think she’d be able to. Not with your large shirt. Or the way your sleeves are rolled. And this weird scenario that she swears she’s seen in awfully written romance books.

“So, you and your team had a get together, right?”

“That’s…that’s correct. I’m just…how did you get to call all of us down by the station?”

“We traced your credit card information. Anyone who’s had drinks were called up here.”

“Ah.”

Be careful, Rhi. And stop acting like you did it. Nothing happened. Technically.

She should’ve let Craig pay for the drinks when he had his chance at being the gentleman he insisted he was.

“Mhm. So, can you tell me what went on that evening?”

Was it possible to find a sound attractive? Maybe it was the way you paired it up with a small nod. Or how you leant in and she caught a whiff of your woodsy fragrance.

Berating herself for having the mind of a teenager, she collected herself for a split second before answering your question.

“I had a couple of drinks with my coworkers, then we held a karaoke session. After paying for my drinks I went out with someone.”

Of course that was before she could stab that man. The same one she’d seen around, sitting down next to people when other empty seats were available. Even sat next to a teenager who had to hop off their next stop.

“Can that someone perhaps vouch for you?”

You kept an impassive face though your eyes were trained on her fingers and the way she twirled them. Noticing, she brought her fingers on your desk.

She was odd. Similar to that of a suspect. The way she was nervous to the point of looking like she’d melt on the spot. Then again…it could just mean she’s an anxious person.For someone who sang in front of a couple of people, you think that’s impressive and kind of brave.

“Would it be convenient to you if I said yes?”

She blurted all of a sudden, the words leaving her. She felt her own eyes widen a fraction but it’s not entirely regretted either, the crease between your eyebrows egging her on.

“I’m sorry?”

“Would it help if I told you yes, I spent the other half of my night with a date? Who by the way partially left me unsatisfied if that’s even possible. Maybe I’m just emotionally connected to people.”

Your apathetic expression is losing its composure, being replaced by utter confusion. She thinks it’s a better look for you, it gives her tidbits of aspects of who you were.

“It would be greatly appreciated if you could just maybe answer the questions Miss Lewis.”

She’s trying. She really is. But she’s concentrated on the way you’re saying her name. She wonders how you would sound if you said her first name, how she would sound if—

“So, you were on a date then. What’s their name?”

“Craig.”

And how can he be selfish enough to leave her alone would be perhaps your next question. You wonder if she knew anyone there who might have offered her comfort. Perhaps that guy she was laughing with. Wait…why are you even curious?

“Alright. I didn’t see his credit card information so we’ll have to give him a call. Could you perhaps leave his number?”

You ask but you are already pushing a piece of paper and pen her way. She shouldn’t have looked at your hands.

“For professional purposes, right? He’s not very good at answering messages. Believe it or not, our texts are filled with thumbs up emojis.”

She bitterly laughs as she scribbles the number before handing it back to you. You hate how the sound of her laughter causes your heart to skip one, two beats.

Shaking your head at your train of thought, you moved to stand up and lead her at the threshold.

The interrogation’s over already?

“Hey…you’ll catch them, won’t you?”

That same confused expression that her brain captures takes over your face again. Apparently she might have developed a thing for it.

“I was talking about the killer?”

“Oh, right. Yeah. Yeah we’ll catch them. I can’t promise you when but…we’ll do anything we can.”

Her gaze makes you feel unsteady. The room feels crowded with the way her eyes are honed in on yours.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. This affects me greatly as it does the rest of the community, Detective.”

“We understand a case like this can make you feel worried. It’s not nothing you don’t know already, but walk in public spaces, contact your friends and family before and after work and check up on them as well.”

At that, her demeanour changes, for just an instant. Her shoulders are slumped, her eyes flickering between yours.

“My family situation is…complicated. And I don’t have any friends to talk to.”

You don’t know why you did it. Of course, you do the same for everyone but only under specific circumstances and conditions.

You rush for one of your many cards with your name, clumsily so. She looks at it curiously before you move to clarify.

“In case you have anything that might help the case or if you…need anything. You’re not alone.”

She’d believe anything you tell her. With one last smile, she shook your hand again, lightly squeezing it.

“I hope so, Detective.”

Quickly leaving your office before she let out another ridiculous sentence, she took a deep breath and left the station, your card in her hands.

She’ll have research on her hands. Maybe, hopefully, you won’t forget her and place her in the back of your mind.

A twisted thought isn’t it? It’s almost as if she’s begging to get caught.

▸

Only a few days have passed, the card on her table taunting her whenever she’d pass by with Craig. Though she never lost sight of it. Always keeping it nearby. Whether that be at home, or at work…or even during her nightly escapades with her knife. It feels weird but she feels a whole lot different, a whole lot better knowing a metaphorical part of you is there with her.

It’s a shame what one can find with just a simple first and last name. And you just had to be one of these people who kept things under the radar.

You had no socials, only basic public information. However she was lucky to stumble upon a newspaper that had a picture of you holding a cat and someone cradling a sleeping puppy sitting next to you. You were volunteering at an animal shelter. Cute, she thought. It was a green flag to like animals. She felt oddly sad, being reminded of Tink’s death. You being an animal lover was the perfect thing for her.

You were wearing casual clothes that day, your professional oversized button shirt switched for something simple. In the article you mentioned how having a cat helped you grow up, and you adopted your first pet at the shelter and met your best friend at the same time. You also talk about your favourite hobbies and random things that you call silly but that just sends a pang to her heart.

There’s this one coffee place that has a booth near a window, all the way at the back. It’s heavenly and kind of underrated. I always go there when I’m in need of quiet.

I won’t say I have a lot of favourite hobbies, but I do like to collect rocks and trinkets. Sometimes you’d see me with a rock after I’m back from running.

She could listen, at least theoretically, to you all day. You were the mellow, soft type. Not the same person she saw that day on the crime scene, where she had to disguise her nerves by laughing at whatever nonsense Jeff was complaining about.

Unfortunately she didn’t get much information, not even simple clues. Not even out of your friend, who only used a first name for the article. Even then, it could be a made up one. She was hoping to perhaps get anything she needs to know about from you from them on a social page but things have gotten complicated.

You’re complicated. You’re making her feel complicated. Why does she want to be noticed by you, like you’re the only one who could ever really afford to?

“Rhi?” A voice startles her from her dreams of your hands again. She knocks over her tea, splashing all over her table. And the files she printed.

“Shit, shit—”

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t move.” The kind voice, her colleague AJ, grabs napkins from her desk and helps her clean. He does so with a soft reassuring smile. “I take it has been a long week since Norman’s finally put you to real work?”

“Something like that.”

She thanks him as she closes the tabs before turning her attention to the brunette, who’s wearing a wry grin. AJ, despite being a nepo baby, was the only one who ever really noticed her in the office. As in, he fully acknowledges her. Not like the rest of the team. But the degree of attention she feels towards him is different than what she feels towards you. Slightly different.

He smiles and nods to her again, shifting his weight on his foot. “Well if you’re not too busy we could perhaps go for coffee?”

“Isn’t our break in five minutes?”

“Family privileges.”

He shrugs, raising a slight eyebrow.

Okay?

She looks at her screen one last time before returning his warm expression. Though she’s Shute she looks like she’s trying to force a smile out of her.

“That is kind of you but I’d rather not. I mean, I’m still new to the editorial team and I’d really hate to give a bad impression, you know?”

“Oh.”

He really tried to hide his disappointment. He really did. But the slight quiver in his voice and his tip lipped grin gave him away.

“Maybe another time, then.”

“Another time.”

And with that he nodded before leaving, leaving her to pick up where she left off.

▸

Rhiannon Lewis was a phenomenon. You’ve never seen anyone like her, really. And you don’t think of her uniqueness as something negative. She’s peculiar, odd…but there are many layers that might make up who she is. That’s what you want to do. To peel off those layers off her. Find out who she is. Your notes seem to cover enough of her information…surface level information. What you’re doing is risky. Maybe slightly deranged. But this is all for the sake of your…well. The investigation.

What you’ve gathered so far about her is that she works for The Gazette. Her father recently passed away and owns a moving company. She has a sister.

You called in the supposed Craig who spent the night with her and her alibi seemingly checked out. And seemingly is used very lightly, here. He was kind of confused at your use of the term “date” instead of “boyfriend” before confirming that yes, they spent the night, all night in his bed. Cool. Great.

“It was great until she left in the morning…she wasn’t that kind of girl before. Between you and me, she was rather the clingy type. She would stay on for two hours after.”

That made you want to tell him not to give private details but you’d take anything you can get.

As soon as he left, you wrote prone to attachments to your notebook along with a couple of traits you briefly witnessed. shy, nervous, plays with her fingers, blinks her eyes more than necessary.

Right under those traits were written all the details of the night of the murder. The victim was murdered before she got to spend the night…or have her date, whatever, with Craig. She said she paid for her drinks, stayed at the bar then left with Craig at the time of murder. Her alibi checks out. Right?

Although something is evidently not adding up.

At all. There are still many, many questions on the tip of your tongue. The first one being what is she doing with a guy like Craig among many others.

And you’re wrecking your brain trying to understand it. Miranda has shared her doubts about her. You both went to St-John, trying to get her to see that something is off but all she answered you with was a "I'd really hate to give you a long week break if you come to me again with this serial killer nonsense."

Judging by Rhiannon's character, calling her in back would push her away. You did give her your number and encouraged her to call you in case of anything so by the looks of it, she has to take the first step. But if she doesn't answer and refuses to meet with you, that will be a cause of pinning her as a prime suspect. You're sure she's smart enough to not do that.

"She's off."

No hesitations on Farrow's part. You thought she would at least wait a few minutes before theorising an idea. This does reassure you in a certain way. You weren’t insane for thinking that Rhiannon is more than what she seems.

So you call her.

And wait.

You do tread lightly, though. Very lightly. It's not like your fingers were trembling whilst you were calling her number. Not at all.

Taking a deep breath, you hear the phone ring for a few seconds before a voice answers it.

“Hello? Detective?”

How did she know it was you on the first call? Was she somehow hoping it was you? Or were you just plain delusional and perhaps a bit insane.

“Miss Lewis? I was wondering if you could maybe come down to the station. When you have time, of course. I talked to your boyfriend about your alibi and would like to review a few things.”

You hear shuffling sounds then…something breaking?

“Shit, shit—”

“Miss Lewis? Is everything alright?”

Nothing was alright.

She was doing the dishes, peacefully as one could on a Friday evening. It’s been weeks since she’s last seen you. Or rather heard you. Your voice held a certain warmth to it. And although her eyes loved to memorise every detail about your face, her brain wanted to store your sound.

“Fine. I’m fine.”

“I can always call another time if you’re busy—”

“No! I mean…don’t. I’m not busy. I mean I’m not doing anything important at the moment. Just…what is happening? Is everything okay?”

She puts you on speaker while cleaning the shards of glass, careful to not hurt herself while also trying to listen to you.

“Are you sure?”

“Please. I’m not occupied at the moment, I’m at home. Alone.”

Why did she feel the need to add that information?

“Alright. Well. It’s to inform you that I talked with your boyfriend and he confirmed your alibi. If it would be alright, there are other things I would like to go over with—”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Right, your date—”

She laughs, an airy type of laugh that sends a strange swirl to your abdomen.

“I’m actually not sure if he can be considered a date either. When you think of it, it looks too much of a strong word, no? Sure we see each other maybe twice a week. But a date is just a one time thing. This…whatever this is, is some sort of weird non-verbal agreement.”

“…Uh-huh. Would you care to tell me more about it whenever you can?”

“More about who I’m seeing?”

This woman was driving you wherever she wanted you to. Pinching your eyebrows and fighting back an incoming headache, you think of what to say before diving into…this. Whatever this was.

“More about your evening. What you were doing before you were at the bar. And before you met up with Craig.”

“And here I thought you were interested in what I was doing now.”

She dusts the remaining shards, accidentally cutting herself at the sound of your sigh. It’s just a small cut. But she’s still pissed off at how you’re able to render her weak.

“Rhiannon…”

“You’re calling me by my first name? We are making a lot of progress here. Next is, what, we meet somewhere for coffee?”

“Miss Lewis. Please.”

“Yes, Detective?”

“Concentrate on what I’m saying. We can go anywhere you want us to. But now I’m focused on trying to gather all essential information to move forward and avoid wasting both of our time.”

“You’re not wasting mine, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

In fact she wants you to waste all of it.

“Is there a time you’d like to meet up, then?”

Deciding that your nerves are too tired to decipher anything properly, you play along with her game, blindly, and just focus on her words, mindlessly agreeing with her.

“We can meet up at this coffee place. I will call you over the weekend and let you know when I’m available. My job might keep me busy.”

“Whenever you wish to, Miss Lewis.”

“It will be quick, I promise.”

She shortly hands up after that. Your heart is still hammering in your chest, your hands clenching the landline as your mind races.

Where have you landed? What have you landed yourself on? Do you want to get out of it? Of this weird latch cause by her?

[tiredmamaissy]

At First Sight

Neteyam’s First Rut: Special Episode II

read chapters: one, two, three, four, five

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Neteyam Sully (18) x Human Reader (18)

Warnings: nsfw, lots of fluff, childhood friend/crush to lovers, masturbation, size difference, first time everything, foreplay, oral sex [f receiving], vibrator usage, consent king nete [you know how I like him]

Word Count: 8k 🧍‍♀️

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for 2000 followers, that’s crazy :’) I love you guys, honestly.

Synopsis: The story of how it all started. Neteyam comes to confess his feelings for you, but accidentally walks in on you using a vibrator.

Intro:

Too young to be put in a Cryo chamber and sent back to Earth, you were raised by the scientists who remain loyal to the na’vi after the war with Quaritch. Despite growing up in a lab, you spent most of your childhood with your friends – Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tuk. You formed all your best childhood memories and milestones alongside them. They taught you the na’vi language, and their way of life. You did your best to keep up with them, although it proved hard in your human body.

They were always faster and stronger, not to mention bigger. Despite being the same age as them they would always tower over you, almost double your height and width. Regardless, you were determined to live the life of a na’vi, even with your tiny, frail body.

Having this exopack was bothersome, constantly getting in your way and needing to be recharged and cleaned. But it allowed you to be closer to your people, to your secret love – Neteyam. His family always saw you as the ‘lab kid’, especially his mother. Neytiri always insisted that you go back to your people when you came around to visit.

Neteyam was always quick to defend you, standing up against his own parents – something that he rarely did. He never made you feel left out, pacing himself to ensure you’d never get left behind, being extra gentle during games and always making sure to carry a backup battery for your exopack. He knew how careless you were in keeping it charged. He would even steal extra of your favourite sweets from the lab when you had your monthly cycle. You’d always had a crush on him since you were kids, but when you both got into your late-teens things became... different.

He grew much, much taller than you, always towering over you. His muscles filled out, becoming more defined as he went through the rites of passages to become a man – to become a warrior. Whilst your chest became fuller, hips wider and waist curvier. At times, you’d catch him staring at you, lingering his gaze on your chest or pelvis, burning holes through your shorts. It’d make butterflies flutter in your stomach, giving you hope that maybe he saw you in the same way that you saw him.

You spent most nights with your hand shoved down your pyjama pants, humping your fingers to your lewd thoughts of Neteyam without his loincloth on. Oh, the things you’d do just to see what he really looked like underneath. You wanted nothing more than for him to be the one touching you, to make you feel good. At times you’d try to be bold, and make a move, holding a single finger or brushing your chest against his thigh. But he never caught on, or so it seemed.

Under the immense pressure of his parents, he couldn’t spend nearly as much time as he used to with you, but you understood and never complained. You filled your time with Kiri, becoming her best friend. She taught you everything about the flora and fauna of Pandora, and made you want to become a healer one day if you could ever get an avatar of your own.

You wanted nothing more. Well, that was a lie. You wanted Neteyam more than anything on Pandora, but you’d go to great lengths to have your own avatar – to be able to become a true na’vi. Norm and Max always teased you about you getting your own avatar when you were old enough, but you never believed them, you knew how expensive they were to create.

You had no other choice but to accept your fate as the human girl who longed for a na’vi boy, and his na’vi way of life.

Unbeknownst to you, Neteyam felt similarly from the moment he lay eyes on you. He always felt a strong need to protect his tiny, frail human. He hated nothing more than when others picked on you, and made you feel less than all because of how you looked. He never cared about any of that, you were the kindest and most adorable girl he knew. You were a treasure to be cherished – to be protected at all costs.

He knew never to act on his feelings, though. Given the whole different species thing, he quickly accepted his fate as the son of Olo’eyktan who longed for a sky person. He knew it would never be able to work, in any regard. He felt like he’d break you if he touched you. But now that he’s become a man, the desire to touch you has only grown stronger.

The moments between you and him have become tense, and awkward. He’d keep a good distance between the two of you, yet he’d never take his eyes off you, always ensuring your safety. And in those moments – those rare moments – that the two of you were alone, the tension was off the charts. To the point where Neteyam started distancing himself from you even more, picking up more training sessions with his father and going on longer hunting trips.

It hurt you. To see the man you cared for so deeply never make the time to be around you anymore. You often confided in Kiri about this, as she was the only person who knew about your true feelings for him. She always encouraged you to be honest and open with her brother, convincing you that he had similar feelings. Even though you wanted to believe her, you couldn’t bring yourself to because of how distant and cold Neteyam had been.

----

“Is Neteyam coming?” you ask Kiri, watching her hook the mask around her neck.

“No, he’s on a hunting trip with dad. Sorry, y/n.” Kiri purses her lips before taking a swig of air.

“That’s okay. I understand that he’s busy.” you shrug your shoulder, trying to act like it didn’t bother you that he was always caught up with something.

She rests a hand on your shoulder, reassuring you that it’s nothing personal, even though she knew it was. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll come around soon, y/n.”

You nod, keeping your gaze fixed on your feet as you both make your way deeper into the lab. Lo’ak and Tuk follow behind Kiri, gearing up with their masks too. Kiri came to see her mom, Grace, and Lo’ak usually just tagged along to bother Max and Norm. Tuk never wants to be left out, following closely behind her siblings everywhere they go.

You were excited, hoping to see Neteyam so you could finally talk to him about how you felt. But he flaked yet again, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

“Hey mom.” Kiri hums, climbing on top of her mother’s tank, admiring her floating body.

Lo’ak and Tuk make their way over to Norm and Max, trying to convince them to reveal some top-secret information about what they have in development. “C’mon Norm, don’t be a wuss. Show us!” Lo’ak grins, giving norm a playful shove, moving him a great distance, unaware of his own strength. “...sorry, Norm.”

You find yourself thinking about Neteyam again, watching Norm’s small frame next to Lo’ak, and how you look just like that next to him. Huffing out a sigh, you look around at your friends and realize that you’re alone. Everyone’s got someone, except you. You could walk away, and no one would even notice.

So, you do.

Unable to deny the way you feel, as tears well in your eyes and your chest burns hot, you shuffle away quickly to your room at the end of the hallway in the lab.

Really y/n? Crying again? You scold yourself for being so sensitive.

Neteyam will never want me if I’m this soft. You blink rapidly, clearing the tears from your eyes as you turn the knob on your door.

You were so deep in thought that you didn’t even realise you’ve walked into a completely different room. Looking around, you realise that you’re in Trudy’s room, not yours. It’s been untouched since the war; Norm couldn’t bring himself to step foot into her room, much less go through her belongings.

Being here gives you an eerie feeling, right in the pit of your stomach. Just as you were about to turn around and back out, you notice a black, open duffle bag on her bed. Inside it is some sort of object, bright and pink, in some sort of packing with a big red ‘XXX’ on it. It’s hard to miss. As much as you wanted to back out of the room, you find yourself closing the door behind you before making your way over to the bag.

Curiosity got the best of you, making you take it out of the bag to inspect it further. Still brand new in its plastic packaging, the object is slightly bent, with some weird looking rubbery bits that rib around it.

‘Thrusting Rabbit Vibrator – Adult Toy’.

You’ve never seen one in person, only hearing about it on shows you watched that aired in the early 2000’s. It’s... a sex toy – a vibrator to be exact. You flip it over, searching for the instructions.

‘Insert, turn on, and enjoy.’

Seems simple enough. The desire to open it, to know what it feels like grows stronger. You nibble at your bottom lip, trying to talk yourself out of your ludicrous urges. Your heart quickens, thumping violently against your ribcage. Deep down, you know what you’re doing is wrong, invading Trudy’s personal space like this, even worse that she wasn’t here to defend her space.

The sound of a doorknob rattling makes your whole body jolt. You gasp quietly, turning around and hiding the toy behind your back. Norm opens the door, jaw clenched, clearly uncomfortable to be looking in his late girlfriend’s quarters. He scans you up and down, a confused look washing over his face.

“y/n? Why are you in... Trudy’s room?” he asks, not wanting to say her name.

“Sorry. I – I didn’t even realise I came in here. I was going to my room...” you babble nervously, realising that you’ll have to reveal more to make it believable, “...I – uh, felt left out, and I was too caught up in my head. Sorry, Norm. I was about to leave.” you apologize again, knowing this room is off limits.

“It’s alright, kid. Sorry if I sounded upset.” He says, expression softening.

You laugh a little to lighten the mood. “Not a kid anymore, Norm.” you shoot him a smile before shuffling out beside him, walking backwards so he doesn’t see the toy behind your back.

“My bad, y/n.” He closes the door, locking it with his key. He turns around, to see you shuffling away.

“Hey. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here. Alright?” he projects his voice as you walk swiftly away, heart thumping in your chest.

You quickly shift the toy to your chest as you spin around and raise a hand in the air. “Alright, Norm! Thanks!”

----

You sit on your bed, staring at the bright pink object sitting on your table, already plotting how exactly you’re going to return this thing. It’s going to be difficult, seeing that he locked the door. It would have to involve some sort of conniving plan to steal his keys whilst he’s sleeping, or something. It honestly seemed like too much, for something so... useless to him.

It wouldn’t even matter right? He’s not going to use it... Would he even realize that it’s missing? You wonder, knowing he’ll probably never step foot in that room again.

You won’t lie, a part of you wanted to know what it feels like. Not only that, but this is probably the only time in your existence that you’d have your hands on such a thing. You’d never ever been able to make yourself climax before, even to your lewd thoughts of Neteyam.

Maybe this would do the trick?

It dawns on you that all you’re doing is trying to convince yourself to use the damn thing. You stand up let loose a loud huff, frustrated with yourself. You pace back and forth in your room, burning a line into the floor with your feet, looking back at the stupid little toy every so often.

You stop dead in your tracks.

“Fuck it.” you mumble, rushing over to the table to rip open the packaging.

Finally releasing the toy from its plastic-y restraints, you bring it close to your face to examine it.

“Whoa.” you mutter, looking at all of the little nubs and ridges on the tip of it, whilst the rest of it is like a smooth silicone.

Grabbing the packaging, you fumble with it a bit before flipping it over once again to read the instructions some more.

‘Clean before and after use. Charge before use. Waterproof. Use on clit or insert inside.’

You make your way over to the bathroom and wash it with soap and water before putting it to charge. Meanwhile, you take a quick shower, thinking about Neteyam the entire time to get you in the mood.

----

“Is she upset with me?” Neteyam asks Kiri, concerned that he’s ultimately ruined the friendship.

“No... I don’t know, Nete. Maybe? She can tell that you’re avoiding her at this point. Just. Go and talk to her, okay?” Kiri encourages her brother.

“Talk to her? And say what? I know we are a different species, but I have feelings for you?” he narrows his eyes, shaking his head slightly.

“Yeah. Actually. Exactly that.” Kiri says, scoffing and nodding her head.

“Really?” Neteyam looks at her with a blank stare.

“Yes, really. Just go.” Kiri pushes him out of the tent. “She didn’t even tell us she was leaving... Tell her that I’m sorry, too.”

“Agh. Alright.” Neteyam walks willingly out of the tent, making his way to the lab, eclipse in full throttle.

----

You brush and braid your hair, keeping it out of your face whilst you brush your teeth. Instead of getting into your pyjamas, you opt to stay wrapped in your towel, seeing that you were going to get naked anyways.

“Let’s do this.” you try psyching yourself up, making your way over to the charging object.

You unplug it and fidget with the button. Pressing the button, it immediately lights up and starts vibrating, making a loud buzzing noise. Startled, you quickly press the button once more, turning it off and throwing it on the bed.

Heart thumping viciously in your chest, you feel the flesh between your legs begin to pulse. All sorts of emotions were coursing through you all at once – anxiety, arousal, guilt. You decide that you need to get in the right head space to do this.

You unwrap your towel, resting it on the end of your bed. Crawling on the bed, you get comfortable, propping up your back against stacked pillows and spreading your legs. The cool, crisp air blows against your naked body, making your nipples hard and body shiver.

You reach for the vibrator, allowing it to brush against your inner thigh before placing it on the softness of your plump lips. Closing your eyes, you imagine Neteyam, standing in front of you with nothing but his loincloth on. His stripes are so prominent, much like his jawline and chiselled torso. His muscular chest stood strong, just like his thick biceps and brawny core.

Waist, lean yet robust, back, broad and sturdy – he was everything a girl could dream of. Nothing less than that of a mighty warrior. You feel your clit jump at the mere thought of his torso. As you make your way down his body you chew on your bottom lip, biting back a soft moan.

Breath becoming raggedy, you press the button with a shaky finger, jolting when the overpowering vibration touches your clit. You imagine his lower half – his thick, muscular, toned thighs, coated in a thin layer of sheen from sweat. Feeling yourself heat up from your lewd thoughts, you press the humming vibrator against your clit, trying to find a good spot.

Squeezing your eyes even tighter, you melt into the sheer power of this toy, relaxing your tensed leg muscles. You make your way in between his thighs and imagine his prominent v-lines, that have scant, dark hair – musky with his natural scent – peaking over the band of his loincloth.

Chest rising and falling from your heavy pants, your leg muscles tense again as that familiar hot feeling pools in your chest – you’re getting close. You wet your lips with a quick swipe of your tongue, before parting them to allow little, soft moans to evade your mouth. You find your hips chasing your orgasm, bucking slightly against the length of the toy as you coat it in a thin layer of your wetness.

Working your way to his most vulnerable area, you imagine him hooking his thumbs underneath the band of his loincloth, gently tugging it down his hips. The more he tugs at the thin cloth, the more the thick, blue base of his cock is revealed. Your brows pinch at the sight, you wanted to know what it felt like, if you could even hold it with one hand.

The image of him brings you closer and closer, the heat pooling in your chest overflowing into the rest of your body, forming knots in the pit of your stomach. You always had a hard time with this stage, never getting past it – never making yourself cum.

“Oh, Nete!” you moan, “Make me cum, please.” You quiet down to a whisper, gritting your teeth as you arch your back.

He tugs the material down to his upper thighs, exposing the little dark blue stripes on his thick, veiny member.

“F-fuck!” you squeak, your head sinking deeper into your pillow as your toes dig into the softness of the bed.

He slips the loincloth down to his knees, revealing his throbbing, veiny cock, letting it slap against his belly, leaving a little wet spot as evidence. It’s so heavy, that even though he’s rock-hard, it rests, sheathed and hung, against his thigh.

----

“Thanks, Norm. I apologize again, for coming so late. I just... really need to make it up to her.” Neteyam bows his head quickly, thankful that he let him in the lab after hours.

“Don’t sweat it. She told me earlier she was feeling a little down. Just let yourself out when you’re finished talking, cool?” Norm responds, having more trust in Neteyam than the rest of them.

“I will.” Neteyam says, crouching slightly to make his way down the hallway to your door.

He looks at your door, reading the weird figures above the peep hole, ‘34’.

Three – four, that is hers, yes?

“Oh, Nete!” he hears your faint, muffled cry.

His ears perk up, heartbeat raising.

Why is she calling for me? Is she okay?

“F-fuck!” he hears your soft groan, hushed by some sort of whirring noise. 

Oh shit. She sounds like she’s in pain. Maybe cramps?

Neteyam wastes not another second and bursts the door open, ready to help you in any way that he could. Instead, he’s met with the sight of you on the bed – naked – touching yourself.

----

You can’t hear the doorknob rattle over the buzz of your toy, and even if you could, you were too focused on trying to experience your first orgasm. It feels so good, it really felt like you were about to explode. Your breaths become shallow, and quick as you climb and climb towards your peak. All you can focus on, is Neteyam coming closer and closer to you, cock swinging at each step.

“Holy shit.” Neteyam breathes, chest rising and falling quickly, heart thumping violently in his chest. Eyes wide, brows raised, and mouth open, he watches you for a second too long, unable to take his eyes off the carnal sight in front of him.

“Shit.” You gasp, body practically curling up into a ball as you and yank the towel over your body and the toy. “What are you doing here?!” you shout at him, wrapping the towel around you properly as you shuffle your back against the wall.

He immediately drops his gaze, blinking repeatedly as he turns away from you, resting both hands on his forehead. “I am so sorry, y/n. I – I should have knocked. I’m sorry, I was just... coming to talk to you about something.” He babbles, gulping down a wad of his spit.

“About what?! So late?!” you shout, cheeks stained red from embarrassment.

You caught a quick glimpse of the bulge in his loincloth before he turned around. Your heart is thumping even faster, even harder. You just moaned his name.

Shit. Shit. Did he hear me moan his name? Fuck. How long has he been here?

“I’m sorry I upset you. Really. I-it can wait. I will be going now. I am so sorry, y/n.” he apologizes through raggedy breaths, feeling his own arousal.

He quickly leaves the room, closing the door tightly behind him, feeling like he just invaded your privacy – big time. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his heart before walking away. You do the same, taking deep breaths to calm down and figure out what the fuck just happened.

Your hand rests on your chest, feeling the thud of your vicious heartbeats. He does the same, hand on his chest, leaning back against the door as he tries to catch his breath. He wants nothing more than to just go back in the room and tell you how he feels, especially now that he knows you think about him when you touch yourself.

It’s the same for you, wanting so badly for him to just burst back in your room, and confess his undying love for you. But you knew that was too far-fetched, to have the eldest son of Olo’eyktan love a simple human girl like you.

Then, why was he... hard?

You stare at the door, waiting to see if it’d open once more. Neteyam’s on the other side, debating with himself whether he should go back in there and come clean. Shaking his head, he attempts to snap out of his deep thoughts – you were naked, and obviously in the middle of something intimate. If he went back in there that’s just him invading your privacy even more. Deciding against staying, he starts making his way down the hallway.

He makes it halfway down the hallway before he stops dead in his tracks, ears perking up and expression softening.

But she said my name, right? He thinks, turning his head to look back on the ‘34’ on your door.

“Agh.” He growls, snapping his head back down to look at his feet. “Fuck it.” he turns around, storming to the door once more.

Surely, if he came all this way, at this time of night to talk to you, then it must be important. Perhaps, important enough to involve his feelings about you? Either way, it’s gone too far now. You may as well come clean yourself.

Making your way over to your door, you reach out to grab the doorknob, only to see it turn on its own. The door swings open, a gust of air blowing the loose stands of hair out of your face. Where the knob once was, is now where Neteyam’s loincloth rests, almost bursting at its seams.

Directly in your line of sight is his cross shaped ribcage, brutally rising and falling from his heavy pants. Your eyes work their way up his torso, past his muscular chest and carved collarbones, to the stripes on his neck and the flush of his cheeks. Your eyes lock with his amber eyes, searching once another in the silence.

He came back.

She was coming to get me.

You smile in unison, coming to the same realization – there was something deeper going on here.

“Hi.” You breathe.

“Hey.” He whispers.

“You wanted to talk?” you ask, hand tightly grasping the overlap of your towel.

“Yes.” He glances quickly at you gripping onto your towel, before looking away from your chest all together. He wants to be a gentleman about this. “Do you want to talk?”

“Yes.” You say shyly, also noticing his shy demeanour.

He looks back down at you, scanning your facial expression to ensure you were being serious. He crouches under the doorframe and enters your room, walking over to the bed.

Your eyes follow his every move, his every step. “You can sit.” You say quietly, finally shifting your gaze to your feet. “What did you want to talk about?”

He seats himself at the end of your bed, elbows resting on his knees and head hanging low. “I wanted to tell you something, y/n. To tell you my true feelings.”

You heart quickens once more, hearing the words you’ve been dreaming to hear. Now that he’s sitting on your bed, you’re face to face. You take slow steps towards him, standing directly in front of him.

“And what might those be, Nete?” you ask, using two dainty fingers under his chin to have him look at you.

He stares deeply into your eyes, furrowing his brows slightly as a puzzled look grows on his face. 

How do I even say this?

“I – I...” he stutters, relaxing his brows and swallowing his spit, “Oel ngati kameie” [I see you]. he confesses, cupping your hand on his chin with his.

You can’t fight the smile creeping on your face. Not only did he confess his romantic feelings for you, but he did it in na’vi. He sees you, not as a little human girl stuck on his planet, but as his equal – his mate.

“Oel ngati kameie, ‘teyam.” You repeat his words, letting him know you feel the same way.

A grin plasters his face, causing his ears to perk up. He pulls you in closer by the hand, situating your tiny frame in between his meaty thighs.

“I have felt this way for some time, y/n.” he continues, inches away from your face, “Since we were kids, playing hide and seek in the trees...” he looks down at your lips, “...since I first lay eyes on you.”

Staring at his lips too, you nod, unable to respond with words.

“I do not care, if we do not ‘work’ together... I cannot ignore my feelings for you anymore.” he places your hand against his warm chest, as he inches even closer to your face. “Feel it... My heart, it beats for you.”

Feeling his heartbeat against your palm, you wrap your dainty fingers around his thumb, gently tugging down your towel with your other hand to expose your cleavage. Inhaling sharply, you place his hand flat against your chest.

“Mine too, Nete.” You finally whisper under your breath. “I-I feel the same. At first sight.” You mumble, now feeling his hot, short breaths against your lips.

Inexperienced lips crash into yours, hungry and eager for your reciprocation. You kiss him fervently, waiting for this moment for practically your entire existence. Bodies pressing together, feeling the warmth radiating from one another’s skin, you fumble with the knot of your towel. A hand stops you, keeping you from untying the loosely wrapped material around your body, he shakes his head side to side.

“Are you sure?” he breathes into your mouth between wet kisses. “I did not...” he kisses you again, “...come back for that, my love”.

“Mhm” you mumble into his mouth, moving his hand away to fiddle with the woven part of your towel once more. You stop and pull away suddenly, coming to the realization that maybe he doesn’t want this. “Do you...want this?” you whisper, resting your forehead against his.

He chuckles breathily, smiling wide before pulling you back in to kiss you again. “How could I not?” he mumbles between sloppy kisses.

Smiling into his mouth, your teeth click together as you feel the pink tinge on your cheeks turn even brighter – even hotter. Breaths heavy and uneven, you feel the thud of your collective heartbeat as you allow your towel fall to the ground. Immediately, he pulls away, looking up and down at your human body.

“Yuey [beautiful]” he says out of breath, mesmerized by the curves and softness of your body.

Allowing his eyes to linger at your chest, he looks up at you briefly, silently asking for your consent to touch your breasts. You nod, pulling his hand up to the soft flesh on your chest before meeting your lips with his once more. His hand completely envelopes your breast, kneading it as gently as he can. His thumb brushes past your hard nipple, playing with it ever so slightly.

Having someone else touch you in this way makes your body shudder. It’s your first time, your first kiss, your first – everything.

A warm tongue presses against your lips, asking for permission to enter your mouth. You grant it, parting your lips and meeting your tongue with his, allowing them to dance with one another in your mouth.

His movements become eager – more impatient. He kneads your breast a little rougher, now gently rolling your small nipple between his calloused fingers. Your body jolts from the sudden pleasure, and a soft moan escapes your mouth into his.

“Feels good, yes?” he returns a moan, making sure you’re okay.

“Yes, teyam.” You nod, moving his hand to your other breast.

Repeating his movements, he gently rolls your nipple whilst kneading your breast. It feels so good, that you can’t help but pant into his mouth, allowing your hands to feel his chest, too.

It’s just as you imagined, his chest is hard yet soft, his skin smooth yet rough, like that of a warrior. Both your hands could fit comfortably on just one of his pecks – his size in comparison to you was no joke. You feel his hand snake around your waist and up your back, calloused fingers taking in the suppleness of your skin.

“So soft” he mumbles, moving his gentle kisses down your neck.

“You, too” you mumble back, moving your hands up to his broad shoulders.

“Not nearly as soft as you, my sevin [pretty].” he smiles into your neck, before planting kisses down to your chest. “May I?” he asks, brushing his lips against your breast.

“Yes. Always yes.” you reassure him, willing to let him do anything he wants to you.

He takes your nipple into his mouth, as well as most of your breast. He suckles as gently as he can, afraid he may nip you with his fangs. Your hands slide from his shoulders, up his neck to his head, where your fingers intertwine with his braids. Using it as leverage, you press him closer into your chest, letting him know he’s making you feel good.

To your surprise, he allows his hands to fall to your hips, pulling you on top of him. It causes him to unlatch from your breast, moving his wet lips up to your collarbones. Your bare pussy is pressed against his bulge, dampening the material that covers it.

“Neteyam” you call for him quietly, feeling so good from his soothing touches.

“Yes, my love?” he responds, pulling away from your shoulders to look in your eyes.

“Can I see... you, too?” you ask shyly, breaking eye contact to glance at his soddened loincloth.

His eyes follow yours, seeing that the thin cloth is soaked. Shooting his gaze back up yours.

“You’re so wet.” he whispers, so enthralled with you that he forgets what you asked of him. He looks at your reddened face, realizing that you’re waiting for his response. “Sorry. What did you say?”

“I want to see you, too.” you repeat, dropping your hands to tug at the band of his loincloth.

Smiling, he leans back, supporting his torso with his arms behind him on the bed. You trail your eyes down from his face to his pelvis, seeing the small knot at the side of his loincloth. Fumbling with the knot, your shaky hands try their best to untie the material. He notices, resting his hand over yours before untying it himself.

“No need to be nervous, y/n. We will not do anything you are not ready for, okay?” he reassures you, untying the knot easily.

“Okay.” you nod, scooting back on his lap to make space for his loincloth to come off.

You slowly move the band down, exposing his deep v-lines and scant hair. You swallow your spit before taking it off completely, revealing his huge, thick cock. Your eyes bulge at the sight, eyebrows raising slightly as your mouth opens wide enough for a sharp breath of air to pass through your lips.

“Oh shit.” You pant quietly, surprised because it’s much bigger than you imagined.

The tip of his cock touches the middle of his thigh, the length and thickness of your forearm. Panicked eyes meet his, scared that he’d rip you in two.

“What is it?” he asks, concerned that you’re uncomfortable.

“It’s – you’re, y-you are too big for me.” your lips tremble as the words slip out.

His brows draw together, eyes squinting slightly – a puzzled expression contorts his face. He cups your cheek, searching your eyes for some sort of clarification. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think – uh. I-I don’t think that will fit inside of me, Nete.” you stutter, feeling too shy to say the words.

Neteyam can’t help but laugh a little. “Ma’ yawne [beloved]...” he uses his thumb to rub your cheek, “...you need not to worry about that. I do not want to do anything that will hurt you.”

The words bring serenity to your chest, making the uneven thud of your heartbeat rhythmic. As much as you want to share that level of intimacy with him, you’ve only been able to fit two of your own fingers inside of you. You lean into his touch, rubbing your face against his palm as a smile plasters your face.

Always so protective over you.

Turns out, he was only half-hard. You watch in awe as his member grows, lifting from his thigh to his belly, all on its own. Neteyam looks away to hide his flushed cheeks. You notice and take this as your sign to touch him for the first time. Wrapping your slim fingers around his girth, you find that your fingertips can’t touch each other. His pelvis shifts suddenly from the warmth of your touch.

“Am I making the mighty warrior blush?” you hum, wrapping your other hand around the base of his cock.

His eyes fall onto his crotch, watching as your hands stroke his shaft. He looks back up at you, directly into your eyes.

“Maybe.” his voice is low, and deep.

You never thought you’d even be in this position, stroking the cock of the man of your dreams. Even worse, him staring at you with sultry eyes and a husky voice, telling you that you’re making him nervous.

“Can I touch you, here?” he asks, sitting up fully and resting his hand on your inner thigh.

“Didn’t I say ‘yes, always yes’?” you smile at him, shifting your hips to allow for better access.

Wrapping one arm around his neck, you hold onto him tightly for support as his hand cups your pussy, making you gasp quickly. You feel his finger part your wet lips, searching for the bundle of nerves at the top of your slit. You bury your face into the crook of his neck just as he finds your clit, rubbing circles into it with his slick coated finger.

Hot, quick pants evade your parted lips, blowing directly onto his neck. His lips plant kisses on your shoulder, tongue playing in the dip of your collarbone. You stroke his cock one handed, trying your hardest to provide enough friction for him to feel good too.

“Is this, okay?” he asks breathlessly, moving his finger down to your entrance.

“Yes, my ‘teyam.” you mumble into his neck, bracing yourself for his thick finger to enter you.

“Let me know if it hurts, my love.” he whispers, slowly sliding his finger inside of you.

“Oh! Ugh.” A strained moan is muffled in his neck, as you feel this finger stretch you out.

You shift your hand from his cock and wrap it around his neck, holding on as tightly as you can. His singular finger easily feels like two of yours, not to mention the fact that they’re much lengthier.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers into your ear.

“No. I’m okay, teyam.” you mumble, closing your eyes to focus on the feeling.

“Good. I am going to move now.” he warns, curling his finger directly into your sweet spot.

You gasp loudly, feeling the pressure already build in your bladder. It feels amazing – better than you’ve ever felt with your own fingers. Your hips buck on their own, grinding into the finger that impales you.

Little, sweet mewls escape your open mouth, beads of saliva dripping onto his chest. You’re so focused on the way he’s making you feel you didn’t even realise the volume of your whines and whimpers until he makes a comment about it.

“I like your little noises, y/n.” he says, pumping his finger in and out of you. “Are you... close?”

“I – I don’t know, I’ve never, c-cum before.” Your breath hitches, feeling your chest and stomach tighten.

Your legs begin to tremble, like they’ll give out underneath you at any moment. “Oh, Nete!” you moan his name, catching a glimpse of his ears perking up from the sound of his name rolling off your tongue.

His hips buck, too, thrusting his cock against your stomach. He’s losing it, all from hearing the sweet sounds that come from your mouth. Pulling away from his neck, you look down at his glossy cockhead poking at your stomach, then back up to look into his amber eyes.

“This is where you’d be... inside me.” you breathe, shifting a hand off his neck to press a finger under your sternum, where his tip touches.

“Whoa. Y-you are so, so tiny, y/n. I’m so scared that I will hurt you.” Neteyam confesses, rutting his hips against you.

“You won’t. I trust you, teyam.” you pant, feeling your legs wobble.

Your heads bump together, as your now both grinding into one another. He feels your weak legs shake and snakes his free hand around your back, supporting it as he lays you down on the bed.

He catches sight of the bright pink toy near your head, eyes widening.

“What is that? Where did you get it from?” he asks, still fingering you.

“Ah... haah, I – I kind of found it.” you pant raggedly, “Ngh! It’s a – oh fuck!” you moan, feeling a new sensation in your pelvis grow.

“It’s a ‘oh fuck’?” Neteyam chuckles, picking up speed.

“Neteyam! That feels weird.” You moan, eyes pooling with water from how good it feels.

“Weird, bad? Or weird, good?” he asks, slowing down his pace.

“Good! Good!” you shout, not wanting him to stop.

“Ah. Good.” He smiles, picking back up the speed, “Now, what is that thing?”

“It’s – it’s a vibrator! Fuck. Don’t stop, Nete.” you whisper desperately, arching your back against the bed. “I think – I think I’m close!” you let loose a strained moan.

“I want to taste it. Can I taste you?” he asks, already making his way in between your legs.

“O-okay teyam” you whine quietly, spreading your legs as wide as they can go.

His hot mouth engulfs your throbbing clit, the flat of his tongue shifting from side to side. “Good?” he mumbles into your slit.

“Mmmn! Fuck, yes!” you moan loudly, bucking your hips into his face.

He grabs your hand and places it on his head, you weave your fingers through his braids.

“Another... another finger!” you beg, feeling the knots in your stomach quickly unravel.

He shakes his head side to side, “’til hurt” he mumbles once more, picking up the speed of both his tongue and finger.

“Please! ‘m gonna cum, Nete!” you plead, toes curling into the sheet beneath you.

He gently slides another digit inside you, feeling the tightness of your cunt clenching around it. You yelp out, feeling a hint of pain among the waves of pleasure that crash through you. He pulls his finger back out, lifting his head up, causing your hand to fall from his head.

“See? I told you. I hurt you, didn’t I?” he asks through knitted brows, looking down at your glistening cunt sucking in his finger.

“Only a little, I’m fine teyam.” you reassure him, wiggling your hips back down onto his finger.

He clicks his tongue, catching a glimpse of the vibrator.

“Let us try this... vee-bray-tor?” he says the word slowly, as he reaches for the pink object beside your head.

He presses the button causing the thing to vibrate in his hand, shock plastering his face from the sensation of it buzzing against his skin. Your hips jolt as he presses the toy against your clit, sending shockwaves up your spine.

“Ohh, Neteyam!” you moan loudly, the feeling overwhelms you. “’ts too much...” your hips shift away from the toy, as you try to reach for his head once more.

He chuckles, switching the toy off and throwing it on the floor. “Prefer me?” he asks huskily, pinning down your leg as he leans in to suck on your clit once more.

“Mmmn, mhm!” you mumble, pushing your cunt into his face.

He closes his eyes, tuning in to the filthy noises that evade your mouth, drawing circles into your clit with the tip of his tongue. Neteyam touches himself, finally hearing the sounds that he’s been imagining every time he pleasured himself.

“Neteyam. I’m so fucking close.” you pant quickly.

He picks up the speed, now knowing where exactly feels good for you, and targets those sensitive areas. He rubs his own cock, beads of precum oozing from his tip lubricating his hand, allowing for fast strokes. He’s huffing hot breaths through his nose onto your lower stomach, giving you goosebumps.

“Holy fuck... R-right there” You let loose breathy moans, feeling the swell of your sweet spot pushing against his finger, as he curls it even harder and faster into you.

“Mmmhm” he moans into your clit, looking directly at you, encouraging you with his eyes to cum for him.

Bucking his hips into his hand, he feels his own orgasm quickly approaching. His brows tighten, feel his own knots unravel quickly in his stomach. He grunts into your cunt, finally squeezing his eyes shut as his thrusts become shorter.

You look between your legs, watching his aroused expression, now realizing that he’s pleasuring himself. It makes you feel even hotter – even hornier, sending you over the edge.

“Oh – oh shit, Neteyam! I think I’m – I’m cumming!” you cry out, shoving his face into your pussy.

You feel your cunt go into a frenzy, throbbing and pulsating feverishly around his finger.

His grunts turn into guttural groans, as he tries to concentrate on making you finish while his warm cum slowly pools into his hand. You push away his head, now feeling overstimulated from his relentless licks, for him to sit up quickly, grabbing his mask in a hurry to suck in a deep, long breath.

“You taste sweet, y/n.” he moans breathlessly, gently pulling his finger out of you. He sucks his finger, savouring the flavour of your slick.

Your cheeks heat up, feeling shy to see him taste you on his finger like that.

“That was... the first time.” you mumble wide eyed, breath hitching from you coming down from your high.

He smiles.

“I know. I’m happy I could do that for you, my love.” he projects his voice as he crouches under your bathroom doorframe.

He quickly cleans himself up so he can tend to you, coming back with a dampened cloth.

“Feeling okay?” he asks quietly, wiping the slick off your thighs, working his way up to the soft flesh between your legs.

“Yes, I’m... more than okay.” You hum softly, chest rising and falling as you try to take a full breath, feeling his tender, gentle touches as he cleans you up.

“Want to shower?” He questions, hanging the cloth against the back of your chair.

You shake your head weakly from side to side, puffy eyes blinking lethargically.

“What about clothes?” he makes his way over to your dresser, resting his hand on the top drawer’s handle, “tis a cold night.”

“Mm... rather you keep me warm.” you blabber, resting your eyes for a minute.

“My pleasure, yawne [beloved].” He smiles.

Tucking one hand under your neck, and the other under the back of your knees he lifts you up, moving you further up in your bed.

“Tired?” he chuckles softly, crawling into bed next to you.

“Mhmm.” You purr lengthily, trying to open your eyes as you scoot back onto him. “Don’t leave, Nete.”

“Alright, my love. I won’t. I will be right here. Get some rest.” He hums, pressing his warm naked body against yours.

He covers you with the blanket first, and then himself with whatever was remaining. He’s too tall for the blanket anyway, as well as the bed, honestly – he’s too tall for this whole place. Legs jutting off the end of the bed, he wraps his arm around you, pulling you even closer to him.

Heavy eyes finally closing, you snuggle into your love, gripping a single finger on the hand are rests on your stomach. He unhooks the mask from around his neck, and straps it to his face, so that he, too, can close his eyes and drift into a deep sleep.

----

Everyone was accepting of your relationship with Neteyam. Surprisingly, his parents were both expecting it at some point, and had already taken the time to come to terms with it – well, mostly Neytiri. Jake was always welcoming of you. Kiri and Lo’ak were happy you two finally hit things off. Everyone, including the members of the clan, could tell that you both had feelings for one another. Even Norm and Max were elated for the two of you, both knowing that there was something more going on between you guys. Norm knew that night would be the night for the both of you to make things official, which is why he granted Neteyam access afterhours.

One day, Norm and Max approach you and Neteyam in your room, knocking quietly on your already open door.

“Y/n. Neteyam.” they say monotonously in unison.

You both look at them, concern growing in your chest after seeing their serious expressions.

“What is it?” you manage to get out, holding Neteyam’s hand tightly, thinking something horrible has happened.

Their expressions soften, a smile creeping on both their faces before they burst out in laughter.

“Just joking with ya.” Max laughs, looking at Norm.

“Yeah. We come bearing good news, actually.” Norm adds, quickly glancing at Max before looking at you once more.

“Good news? What is it?” Neteyam asks, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb, calming you down.

“Well, it’s not like you guys don’t already know. You can think of it as a ‘mating’ gift, ya know, seeing that na’vi don’t have weddings.” Max babbles, straying from the point.

“You’re getting your own avatar, y/n.” Norm announces happily, knowing that this is your biggest dream yet.

“What?! Are you serious?” you shriek, jumping to your feet, eyes flickering between the two of them.

Neteyam is still holding your hand tightly, now standing with you, wrapping his tail around your leg. Ever since you revealed your feelings to one another, Neteyam has rarely left your side, always making sure he’s near you – protecting you. You were his mate now, nothing less.

“Yep. She’ll be ready in about four months.” Max smiles, proud that he could pull the strings to get his favourite girl her own avatar.

“Oh, Max. Norm.” your voice cracks, tears welling up in your eyes. “Thank you, guys. I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate this.” You walk swiftly towards them to give them both a big hug.

Neteyam reluctantly lets go of your hand and leg, but follows closely behind you, towering over the two men. He wraps his tail around your leg once more, always needing to touch you in some way.

You hug them both, tippy toeing to squeeze their necks as hard as you can – to show how much you really appreciate what their doing for you.

“Thank you, Max, Norm.” Neteyam says, smiling and bowing his head at them both.

“Our pleasure, guys.” Max and Norm chant together. “C’mere Neteyam.” Norm smiles, pulling Neteyam into the hug.

Photo creds: ?? let me know!!

Tags:@jakexneytiri @sweethoneycn @deadgirl02 @keijis-wifey @pandorxx @swiftielivvie @teyamfangirl @avatar-lover @sooebear @vanillawhale @bxnnywriting @athenachu @trashboat-the-raccoon @avaixe @qweq-6802 @rodeosayu @girlpostingsposts @erinloversworld @agelsully @zetey @raaaaainn  @eywascall @yawneneteyam @weirdomcu @pandxrastars @eichenhouseproperty @camgod78 @kibiscribbles @bedofpearls @kurtsworld096 @audrinawf @otukirey @deexdeez @c78r @bby-bo @neteyamsmate4life @wheniseeyouigogonutz @sullymenrhot @jakescumdump @erenjaegerwifee @eywaheardyou @saturnheartz @lovekeeho @afro-hispwriter @lovemyavatar @rainbowsocks @eddiesluvt @etherialblackrose @sleepilysworld @fezandashgirlfriend @kahlowy @babyymeme @lovekeeho @ilove444sworld @kaixiio @becksimagination @ameliestsblog @theycallmesia @boooogieman

[sweetbutpsychobutsweet]

Raspberry Leaves

Chapter 15

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: It's the morning after, and the long-dreaded visitor has finally made an appearance. Luckily, Thorin has just the cure. However, resuming the journey has forced you to wonder once again: What is this new relationship you share with Thorin, and how long will it last?

Warnings: no use of y/n, angst, 18+, NSFW, minors do not interact, mentions of menstruation, mentions of period sex (not described in much detail lol sorry), angst, allusion to breeding/pregnancy kink

Author's Note: I know this one took a while, so thank you so much for your patience! Life has been crazy lately with my job and writing my own book so I couldn't give this story as much of my attention as I'd like. However, I've already started on the next chapter and have plenty of fun things to come!

Word count: 1833

When morning comes, you wake up aching. An aching no longer only for Thorin, but because of him. You haven’t even moved a muscle and you can already feel the soreness between your legs. And not just between your legs. In your back, and low in your belly. Sharp contractions come in waves pulling you from a blissful sleep.

A telltale sign of what is to come. Your monthly pains have returned, no doubt thanks to Thorin’s steadfast dedication to keeping you fed and well nourished. For the first time in ages, you feel safe and cared for, which means your uterus is ready to riot.

With a groan you roll over onto your side, nuzzling deeper into Thorin’s warm chest. His breath hitches with the movement and you feel him start to stir beside you.

Still clinging to the haze of sleep you refuse to open your eyes just yet as strong arms wrap tighter around you. Maybe if you pretend to be asleep you won’t have to get back on the road just yet. Deep down you know as soon as you step out of this room everything will have to go back to normal. Save for a few knowing glances and snickers from Kili and Fili. You’ll pretend as if nothing has changed between the two of you and Thorin will do the same.

That’s the way you need it to be.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t hold onto this feeling for just a little while longer.

Thorin’s lips brush against your forehead, pressing a gentle kiss to your hairline.

“I know you’re awake,” he murmurs.

“Am not,” you insist, stifling a yawn. “I’m still asleep, and not at all sore.”

He chuckles softly, running his fingers through your hair splayed out across the pillow beneath you.

“Apologies,” his voice rumbling through his chest sends tingles down your spine. “I got a little carried away last night.”

“You should be, but it isn’t that,” reluctantly you reach a hand up to wipe the sleep from your eyes as you blink up at him. “If you hadn’t insisted on feeding me every chance you got I wouldn’t feel like someone’s using my womb for target practice.”

You can practically hear the gears turning in his head as he’s silent for a moment.

“Oh, I see,” he finally says with a laugh. His hand playing with your hair travels down your naked body to rest over your pelvis, his fingers gently pressing into the muscles of your angry uterus. The warmth of his hand is a soothing relief and you hum as he massages slow circles into your abdomen.

“Do you need anything?” he asks but you just shake your head.

“I have plenty of rags, I should be fine.”

The sun has started to stream through the dusty window above you. Dust particles float in the air as the light touches the worn floorboards. You both watch in a comfortable silence as the sun beams gradually shift from a gentle orange to a brighter yellow. “Most of the others will be up by now,” Thorin says and you stubbornly squeeze your eyelids shut again.

“Good for them,” you grumble, refusing to move just yet.

But despite your whines of protest, Thorin reluctantly slips from the bed with an apologetic kiss to your cheek.

“I’ll bring some breakfast and hot water to clean you up,” he says as he starts to pull his clothes back on. “You should start getting dressed.”

He disappears out the door before you can warn him not to get his hopes up.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thorin does indeed return with food and hot water. And he’s not the least bit surprised to find you still in the same spot he left you, moments away from falling back asleep.

He knows better than to try and argue with you in this state, so instead he just pulls back the covers and runs a warm, wet rag along your inner thighs to clean up the sticky mess.

Despite his urgency to get back on the road soon, he manages to get side tracked while his hands are already between your legs. And within minutes he has you writhing and moaning atop the mattress, now very much awake and wet for a completely different reason.

“I do believe you’ve finally found the best relief for menstrual pain,” you tell him breathlessly as you begin dressing yourself.

“Second best,” he corrects you with a grunt as he shoves the rest of your scattered things into your respective bags.

You lift a brow at him in confusion, tossing him his shirt you slept in to swap it out for one of your own. As comfortable as it is, wearing it the rest of the day would be as good as announcing to the rest of the company that you and Thorin were intimate the night before.

Thorin catches the shirt, his eyes locked on yours as he says: “you can’t bleed if your belly is already full with a child.”

Then he goes back to packing like he didn’t just drop a metaphorical boulder on your head, causing your core to clench in an entirely different way.

“What did you say?” your voice comes out as a squeak as you clutch your shirt to your bare chest.

He rises to his feet, towering over you as he takes a step closer, his scent overpowering your lungs as a chill runs down your spine.

“You heard me,” his voice rumbles low in his chest. “And I would if you asked.”

“What?” you blink up at him, your mind too cloudy to think straight.

“If you asked me,” he brings a hand to your bare arm, tracing his fingers across your skin, “I would give you a child. My child. I’d fill you with my seed until I was sure it took, so you’d never bleed again.”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times. You can’t think, let alone form a coherent sentence at his implication. But before you can settle on anything to say, a knock comes from the door.

Neither of you move, maintaining unblinking eye contact, until the knocking gets more persistent.

Thorin finally breaks away from you, suppressing a knowing smirk at your shocked expression. Finally snapping out of your daze as he moves towards the door, you quickly pull on your shirt as he undoes the lock.

“What is it?” he grunts, pulling the door open just enough that you can see Kili standing in the hallway with his hands covering his eyes.

“Are you both decent?” he asks and Thorin rolls his eyes.

“If we say no will you leave?” you finish pulling the rest of your clothes on as Kili hazards a peek through his fingers. Seeing you both fully clothed and on opposite sides of the room he lets out an exaggerated sigh of relief.

“The rest of the company is ready,” he informs the two of you and Thorin grunts in understanding before looking over his shoulder at you. With a nod you grab your pack, tossing Thorin’s to him as well. “We’re ready.” You push past the two of them, heading for the stairs to rejoin the others.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You remain silent for most of the day's journey. Thorin’s words continue bouncing around in your mind.

Did he really mean what he said? Or was he just joking? You can’t tell which you want to be true. Heat rushes to your cheeks at the image of him dripping down your thighs, only for him to scoop his seed back inside you, so as to not waste a single drop.

But then the more logical side of you kicks in, and you think about what comes after. You, pregnant with Thorin’s child. His heir. If the two of you were anyone else it wouldn’t seem so crazy. But that’s not the case.

He’s a king, marching to reclaim his kingdom.

And you’re… you. You might come from a good family but you’re still only half a dwarf. As soon as your quest is complete you’ll be setting out on the road again. Once your family is laid to rest there will be nothing left keeping you in Erebor. It will no longer be your home and you will be destined to continue wandering Middle Earth for as long as there is still breath in your lungs.

Besides, even if Thorin suffered from a bout of temporary insanity and asked you to stay there would be no point. He’s not your childhood friend anymore. That dwarven prince was lost to you long ago. He has a duty to fulfill, and you have…well whatever you want.

And what you want is definitely not to be a king’s whore. You refuse to be the plaything he keeps poorly hidden in the shadows of the mountain.

You are too uncivilized to be his queen, and too prideful to be his mistress so this thing between you will only end as badly as it did the last time you parted ways.

The rest of the company must sense your inner turmoil today because none of them bother you once you continue back on the main road. Either that or Thorin already warned them about the return of your monthly visitor. The Dwarves take turns silently handing you snacks when you start to feel irritable. And when you stop to make camp for the night, Oin boils some raspberry leaves he picked to brew into a tea for you to sip by the fire.

The others are in much better spirits after a good night’s rest. As you wrap yourself in a blanket, clutching your tea at the edge of the fire’s glow, the others talk and laugh jovially. Even Thorin joins in, swapping stories with your kin. He’s in a much better mood than you’ve seen him in since… well ever. His scowl has been replaced with hearty laughter and a grin that lights up his face. Every so often he glances over at you as if he needs to keep assuring himself that you’re still close by.

You give him a small smile of reassurance but still can’t bring yourself to join the rest of the group. The tea Oin brewed has helped ease your cramps, and the rest of the company has already ensured that you’ve more than eaten your fill for the evening. But it’s not pain or fatigue that keeps you from joining in.

As the fire illuminates him before you, an ache builds in your chest. An ache so strong you can’t suppress it any longer. Just because you know how this journey has to end, it doesn’t stop you from wishing things could go differently. It only makes it that much more painful when you realize Thorin is starting to look at you the same way he did before the dragon came. Like nothing in all of Middle Earth could separate the two of you.

Taglist:

@mrsdurin @thetaekwondofeline @enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog

@exhausted-humxn-being @marsmallow433 @sverdgeir

@champagne-glamour@yve-barr @krampus236 @nerdthickly

@lyl1pad @bruhk @eri-s-big-sis

@quiall321 @genderless-ghosty-boi @zenrobbins0021 @mamajaxx2511 @daryldixons-wife @a-goblin-named-cherry