#maybe when im dead i could finally get a good nights rest......

[gideongrovel]

THE TEMPERATURE REGULATION IN THIS HOUSE IS ASS!!!!!

I melt every night I have TWO FUCKING FANS GOING and I'm still melting 😭😭😭😭😭😭 my room gets hotter then the rest of the house and every other room,,,, but since it's fall time people get too cold so the heat is turned on,,,, im forced to melt and lose sleep over it becoming a puddle of sweat,,, like there are ways to get yourself warmer just cover up more but I can only do so much to keep cold,,,, ive tried talking to my parents finding a better in between so I'm not melting but they not cold either,,,, but I'm not listened to 😓😓😓😓😓😓😓😓

like I already have insomnia,,, so sleeping is already difficult for me,,,, so my body overheating doesn't help,,,, and I need my weighted blanket to sleep but I cant even use it since it's so hot :((( I've had multiple breakdowns about it just crying about the lack of sleep I've been getting,,, and just the frustration of it all,,,, my jaw is also in pain cause the stress is making me clench my teeth more 🙃

[orcelito]

Despite all odds, I have arrived home safely👍

Turns out that the earlier goop was the better goop. The adderall goop. The adderall has worn off now though. So I am. Very incredibly out of it.

But I am home. And I will take my quick shower. And then I will climb into bed.

I do need to eat. But... later...

[strangersteddierthings]

Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

-

Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.

Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.

He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.

It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.

He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.

"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.

"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."

"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.

"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.

Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."

Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."

"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."

A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"

"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."

Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."

"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."

"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."

Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"

"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.

Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."

Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.

"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."

"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"

The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."

"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."

The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."

Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."

"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."

"He thinks his own parents are bad?"

Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."

"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."

Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."

"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."

There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.

Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.

"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.

Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."

"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.

"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.

Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.

Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.

True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.

"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.

"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.

"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."

Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."

"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."

"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.

"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."

"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"

"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."

Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."

Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.

"You've every right to be."

Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"

"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."

"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"

Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.

"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.

To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.

Now he's got two apologies to make.

I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88

[manikeri]

too rough..

content warming: rough sex, dirty talk, stomach issues (he tore your shit up), breeding, aftercare, little bit of begging, whiny dom! eren, sub! reader, enjoy!

summary: Eren just can’t control himself when he’s inside your pretty pussy! He goes so rough that you have cramps, don’t worry though. Your renny would never ever just leave you like that! Forgive him?

“Heyyy baby…” Eren coos while rubbing your back gently, his weight putting a dent in the bed as he sat next to your cradled body. Your knees to your chest with the blanket over your body. You nudged your body forward a little before wincing at the pain that shot through your tummy.

It was all his fault!! You had the whole day planned out! You were gonna go on a coffee run, go on a target shopping spree, maybe even grab a bite to eat! But nooo…

Don’t get it twisted you love your pretty boy, so much! He just has a problem.. an addiction.. to your pussy. Last night was the 3rd time this week he woke you up in the middle of the night to have sex!!!

I mean.. you weren’t sleeping anyways.. but that’s not the point!!! You were getting there, ok?!

“please don’t be like that.. I said sorry..”

“…”

“really? Silent treatment?”

“…my stomach hurts”

“i know baby, I’m sorry I brought you some aleve and water”

Eren kneeled in front of you as you sat up from your fetal position holding your stomach. You took the pills and drank the water while staring at him.. god he was so pretty

His forearms resting on his knees as his head was tilted to the side, you watched as he brung his tattooed hands up to your things rubbing them slowly. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander off to what happened last night

“fuck! too r-rough ren!” you screamed for the millionth time tonight.

“pussy feels so. fuckin. good. babyyyy… oh my god i love you so much” he whined as he continued fucking himself out in your pretty cunny

You layed your head back down as he gave you the most lethal backshots known to man, you tried putting your hand on his abdomen but that didn’t work.. he was saying things like

“shitt.. no, not right now baby. please don’t keep this from me right now”

“please baby please just let me have it. All of it”

“Stop doing that..! I need this so badly, please let me make the both of us feel good baby.”

All you could do was whine along with him! You both were so pathetic. Fucking each other stupid at 1 in the morning. Your eyes rolling back as you bit the blanket. His hips having a mind of their own, his cheeks dusted a baby pink, his eyes furrowed in pleasure, and his mouth hanging open as he watched where you both connected.

You started to throw it back a little on him, you hated seeing him do all the work. You never wanted to be a pillow princess. You love pleasing your man, and man did he love you pleasing him

“shit! you trynna one up me baby?”

“n-no.. just wanna make you feel good”

“makin’ me feel real good baby”

He let out a shaky sigh before grabbing your hips and ramming into you with all his might. You squealed into the blanket as you took his harsh strokes. Eventually you felt a tingly feeling building up in your stomach, Eren knew before you could say anything to him.

“I know baby i feel it, just let it go.. fuck me…”

“want you to cum with me!”

“fuck! You’re driving me crazy y/n… shit im gonna cum, cum with me please baby please”

You came on instant a loud moan leaving your lips as your eyes crossed and squeezed you eyes shut, a loud groan coming immediately after.

All that could be heard were heavy breaths and squelching as eren rode out both of your highs. He finally pulled out and laid down next to you, only to find you already dead asleep. He kissed your forehead before drifting off himself

“if you keep staring at me like that you’re gonna be complaining about your tummy for the rest of the week” he said poking the flesh and giggling after you kick his calf.

“Just jokes beautiful, come on, I got you a surprise” he says getting up and walking to the door before turning around and seeing you still on the bed.

“hey, baby.. im really sorry i went so rough yesterday. You have every right to be angry-”

“im not angry ren.”

“so why aren’t you coming wit-”

“I can’t walk…”

His mouth opens in realization before walking out with explanation, then back in with a bunch of presents. Your favorite drink, snacks, new plushies for your collection. Some bags from your favorite store.

You smiled and held your arms out for him to hug you, he put everything on the bed and walked over to your side of the bed with a smile

“I love you rennie���

“I love you more baby.”

[miley1442111]

Heyyyy are you still requests?? If yes..................

Last night i relived a painful memory when a loved person told me to shut up in front of our friend group and it was so humiliating and overwhelming, i went dead silent for the rest of the month but still played cool with everyone and everyone knew i was destroyed, wasnt leaving home that much yet and the person who told me to shut up was going trough some shit (ON THAT DAY) and actually never apologized...

SO SORRY FOR THE VENT BUT IT WAS NECESSARY FOR THE PLOT I SWEAR.

What if the reader is the one being told to shut up by none other than RAFE CAMERON who is a very close friend and he told the reader to shut up out loud in the middle of a party in front of your friend group (Kelce and Topper) and the reader also play it cool but it collapse at themself like a dying star and all their light is sucked by the black hole it became. But unlike real life, Rafe doesnt need people telling him he fucked up and he felt terrible and a few weeks later he sees reader on a party, unusually quiet, being dragged by their friends around trying to cheer reader up and the reader still trying to play it cool but the damage was showing and maybe Rafe take the chance to approach you but he doesnt know what to say or what to do so he acts like nothing happened?? IM SORRY THIS IS SO CONFUNSING I JUST WOKE UP AND I HAD TO WRITE THAT BEFORE THE MEMORY FADED. Sorry if i made you feel uncomfortable, just ignore it if you didn like ittt!! I love your writting btw i'll never forget that one ask i did and you answered about Rafe choosing between reader and a lover!!!!

and ask 2:

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talking too much- r.cameron

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a/n: HELLO to the both of you! thank you two so much for requesting, and very sorry that this happened to you :( I'd let you talk my ear off about anything any time :) (ps, great song choice)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader

summary: i suggest you look at the requests

warnings: reader kind of loses her spark, rafe is a confused and stressed asshole, reader becomes very insecure, feelings of not being good enough, rafe gets very stressed at the end (i think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

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It was finally nearing the end of June and you were planning your 4th of July party with your friends. Topper, Kelce, Rafe, you, Sarah, and a few of your other friends sat around the table, thinking up ideas for what parties to drop into, and what you were going to wear, etc. You were excited, that was no crime. You’d always been the most excitable in the group, it was just part of your bubbly personality, there was no issue with it. No one had ever been more than a little irritated with it before, no big deal. You’d just apologise and remember to tone it down for those people, but your closest friends weren’t those people. Your closest friends liked your personality, your closest friends liked you. It didn’t matter how loud you were. 

“And then I guess we’ll-”

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?” Rafe cursed.

The room went silent. You stood still, frozen as people’s eyes turned to you. Sarah offered a look of sympathy, she knew how much you valued Rafe’s opinion, especially since you had a slight crush on him. You felt yourself recoil. How could he be so rude? All you were doing was giving ideas to the group, it’s not like anyone else was trying to speak much, and Rafe definitely wasn’t adding to the conversation. At least, he hadn’t been for the past hour, just sitting in the corner with his leg bouncing and that stupid vein protruding from his stupid neck. You slumped back in your chair, embarrassment filling your mind as you thought over every other interaction with him and the group. Were you annoying? Did they all actually hate you? 

“I don’t hear you talking much Rafe,” Sarah shot back. “Something to say?”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Fuck off Sarah,” he scoffed and waited for you to bounce back and start speaking again. You didn’t. He looked up as the group started speaking again, going off of all the plans you’d started. You were just sitting there, on your phone. 

You just waited until someone actually asked you a question to give your input, and even then all you said was; “Sounds good.”

He’d fucked up. Big time. 

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It had been a week since ‘the incident’, and Rafe hadn’t seen you. He felt awful, absolutely disgraced after what he’d said. He was stressed, it was a bad moment, and he took it out on you. He was sorry. But how was he supposed to tell you that? How was he supposed to explain how sorry he was, explain that he was just stressed? How would you believe him? You two had never been the closest in the friend group, not to say you two didn’t speak, but you two weren’t exactly attached at the hip like you were with Sarah, or Kelce. All you’d ever been to him was nice, not something he was sure he deserved, but he appreciated it all the same. 

How could he get back to that?

------------------

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Sarah begged over the phone. 

“I’m tired, I was working all day-”

“Come on, you’ve been dodging all week! 4th of July is coming up, I don’t want to hang out with Kelce and Top without you,” she whined, 

“I’ll be there for the 4th, I’m just busy right now,” you sighed. “I promise I’m ok,” you lied. 

“If you’re staying home because of what Rafe said, I’ll kill him,” she swore. 

“I don’t give a shit about what Rafe said,” lie. “I’m just busy, promise.”

Sarah sighed. “Alright, see you on the 4th!”

And with that, you hung up. The last week had been one long pity-party that made you feel even worse about yourself, deciding that your friends were better off without you, especially when you can’t even bounce back from one tiny insignificant comment from one random guy. That’s what you thought anyway. But now, you had 3 days before the 4th, and you weren’t sure how you were going to get the courage to face any of them. 

Not that they hadn’t reached out. Everyone who was there (aside from Rafe) had called or texted to ask if you were ok, and apologised for not saying anything. Kelce had felt the worst, since he was supposed to be your best friend, and he hadn’t said anything. You brushed them off, promising them it was fine, promising them you were fine. They barely believed you, but you somehow convinced them that you were busy. You told half of them that you were packing for your move, and the other half that you had gotten a job at your mom’s company. I mean, technically you were a few weeks out from moving away and you should be packing, and technically you did just get a job at your moms’ company (managing the online presence and doing admin work), but really both those jobs were easy. You could’ve done them for a few hours, then seen your friends. But you didn't want to. You didn’t want to feel like a burden. 

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The day of the 4th rolled around and Sarah picked you up with all the girls in the group in her car. You looked gorgeous in your short red dress, at least that’s what Sarah told you. You kept your mouth shut as the girls gossiped and sang along to songs, only interjecting when truly necessary. When you got to the beach, you managed to break away from the girls and get a drink, standing alone as you watched the night go by. You liked people watching, you found it interesting to see the small micro-expressions on peoples faces, the snippets of their conversations, and everything in between. 

“Hi,” Rafe smiled softly. He was in front of you, blocking your view of the people you were looking at. 

“Hi,” you answered meekly. 

He stood there for a moment as you tried to look over his shoulder, but the group were gone. You sighed in defeat and turned around to pour yourself another drink. 

“How are you?” he asked. 

“Fine thanks,” you answered. “You?”

“Good, fine… yeah,” the awkwardness in his voice almost made you physically cringe. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“It’s been like a week?” you questioned. In the past week, Rafe had realised how much he missed you, and how much you added to the group. He missed how you brightened up everyone, how you kept the peace by being close with almost everyone, how you made him laugh. 

“What have you been up to?” He scratched the back of his neck, his nerves almost getting the better of him, almost making him turn around and not do this. Almost.

“Not much. Working, packing, usual stuff,” you shrugged. 

Rafe’s expression faltered. “Packing?”

“I’m moving in a few weeks,” you explained. “So you won't see me for a while.”

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. 

Absolutely not. 

Rafe felt his stomach sink. “Why?”

“‘Why’ what Rafe?” you asked, genuinely confused. Why, out of all people, would he care?

“Where?”

“Just main-land, but a bit further into the city so I’m moving schools,” you shrugged.

“But it’s our senior year?”

“Yeah? And?”

“We all said we’d do it together, remember?”

“It wasn’t my choice to move,” you scoffed. “And also, why are you acting like this is new information? Tonight is my ‘last hurrah’ get-together. We’re doing the stupid sleepover.”

“W-what?”

“We didn’t invite you,” Sarah butted in. “You were a dick, now you reap the consequences.”

You rolled your eyes at the shocked look on Rafe’s face. “Night Rafe, see you around.”

Rafe stood frozen as you walked away, shocked. Had he really not been listening for so long? Had he really missed that? You were moving, you were gone. And there was nothing he could do about it. 

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obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[lululandd]

mutual;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader

word count: 1.3k+

warnings: stalking, drugging

note: i have nothing planned for the rest of the story so please bear with me and maybe go on this adventure together :3 (also on AO3)

summary: “it wasn’t supposed to make you sick, love.” he sighed as he knelt down, “just wanted to make you sleep.”

you woke up in annoyance that night, seeing that it was still dark outside when you opened your eyes. you had went so far as to order carb heavy food for dinner earlier, finishing it off with some medicine to hopefully, finally, at long last, get a good night’s sleep.

and yet here you are, eyes wide open in the dead of night. it had been a rough couple of weeks, your mind running circles and staying alert every night, leaving you irritable and unable to focus or function during the day.

getting some of your senses back as you lie flat on your back—staring at the ceiling contemplating all the good night’s sleep you had before all this happened—you shivered and realised something’s wrong with your body. you felt chilly, and when you touched your arm it felt damp. bile quickly came up the back of your throat when you tried to sit up, your eyes widening as a rush of adrenaline flows through you, giving you enough panic and energy to get out of bed.

making it only to the sink, you thank yourself for even being able to hold it back that long and not hurling everything out on the floor.

bracing yourself on the counter, you start to wonder what you ate that could possib—

click.

what was that?

you hunched lower towards the sink, expelling what looked like the rest of your dinner. the sound of your front door being opened and closed made your mind race and your nausea worse, coughing spit and phlegm into the sink. your hands shook as you turned the tap, all your energy spent on heaving and keeping yourself upright. large beads of sweat rolled down your temple as you watched the water swirl, shuddering as you feel the back of your shirt sticking to your skin.

mentally, you want to fight off the intruder. physically? you’re lucky to even be vertical right now. staring at the running water, you wish and hope it’s just a robber.

you wobbled towards the toilet—your legs felt like it would fold like a cheap umbrella if you stood any longer—and lifted the plastic seat before kneeling in front of it, bracing both sides of the bowl, the coldness from the tiles and the porcelain bringing some relief on your burning skin.

the bathroom door opened wider and something big stepped into the room with you.

“my bag is in the hallway. there’s—“ you dry heaved, “—cash in it. i haven't seen your face.”

“allright?” the man spoke. 

“pl—“ nausea took hold again before you could speak. you chose to just wave and look away. but his footsteps came closer and closer, forcing you to screw your eyes shut to avoid seeing him entirely.

“offended you thought i was here for money.” he drawled, his deep and gruff voice sounding oddly calm. “im worried.”

your whole body jolted, involuntarily opening your eyes and turning your face towards him. through your tear filled eyes you could see a hulking dark shape of a man with a skull printed balaclava for a face.

“please just take the money,” you begged and sniffled, limp hand pointing at the general direction of where your valuables would be on the other side of the wall.

“the food wasn’t supposed to make you sick, love.” he sighed as he knelt down next to you, “just wanted to make you sleep.”

he helped hold your hair up as you threw up pure acid this time, making you cough and sputter harder into the bowl. his other hand holds your forehead, steadying you as you swayed. it brought you a sense of troubled comfort, being helped by a stranger that broke into your home. 

seeing you no longer have anything in your system to force back out, he gently picked you up from the floor. you feebly try to push away from him—like a sickly wet spaghetti trying to push a concrete wall—as he makes his way to your room.

he had put you down on your bed and made his way towards your armoire when you realised something that made your body sit still.

your room was still dark. hell, the whole flat was practically dark. the only other source of true light other than the streetlamps shining through your curtains was from the opened bathroom door. there wasn't any hesitation in his steps when he brought you in. no glancing around or fumbling on his part.

you could only watch him in muted horror as he bent over your armoire, immediately opening the drawer that holds your home clothes. “you’ve been here before.” you half whispered.

“couple times, yeah.” he nonchalantly admitted as he rifled through your clothes, grabbing shirts and moving it closer to his face before putting them back and doing it again with another.

you wildly look around the room, wondering if you could outrun him. no, no, not through the door of course, he was closer to it than you are, but the window, yes, the window. that’s closer to you than it is to him. you eyed the window, prepping all the steps you would need to do before you could flung yourself out of it. if you’re fast enough, and quiet enough, you coul—

he straightened his back at that exact moment and turned towards you with one of your favourite shirts in his hands. you saw the peeling glitter font shimmered for a fraction of a second before he dropped it in your lap.

he then turned around and stepped away, giving you what little privacy he could while still keeping you close.

you changed at a sluggish pace, keeping your eye on his back the whole time with the perfectly rational fear that he’ll turn around, catching you mid change; as if you could do anything if he did.

thankfully he didn’t.

being dry felt nice. you’re still shivering a little and you felt like you’ve just swallowed an acorn after running a marathon, but at least you’re dry and no longer cold and sticky. you spent what little freedom you didn’t know you had left to watch his broad back instead of telling him you’re done. now that you have some space and a little energy to think, you wonder if you’ve seen him anywhere before; wracking your brain to try and remember if maybe you recognise his silhouette or imposing shape from somewhere. would paying more attention to your surroundings help? do you need to remember who you’ve seen and where you’ve seen them? where does the line for caution stop and paranoia begins? 

you didn’t even notice him turning around and walking towards you, you gaze empty as you keep thinking about all the little things you should’ve noticed, how big of a mistake it was to not pay attention to large men, how—

a soft touch on your forehead snapped you out of your thoughts, the back of his hand reaching out to feel your temperature. the gesture felt so loving and familiar that you involuntarily closed your eyes, his touch on your scorching skin made the discomfort and ache a little more bearable. 

but relief was cut short by a sharp prick on the side of your neck, your hand flying up towards the source of the pain to catch it but finding nothing.

something thin and shiny on his lowering hand caught your attention as your vision blurred and the edges darken. “wha—”

“don’t fight it.” he cuts you off as you try to speak, his voice commanding you from far away. you could only watch as the gleaming material disappeared into his clothes. 

for the first time that night you voluntarily looked up towards his face, but he pushed you down on the bed and covered your eyes before you could remember anything worthwhile.

it’s getting increasingly harder to stay awake, mumbling something to him you couldn’t even remember as your eyelids get heavier; lashes fluttering onto his palms everytime you blink.

you could feel his breath on the side of your face, but when he spoke to you it sounded faint, as if from even further away.

“sleep well.”

even in your barely conscious state you could hear the smile in his voice.

[perseephoneee]

okie dokie does a Dean Winchester x reader fic work? Had an idea way back in s1 when jess first dies, (older sister, who kinda takes sam under her wing) reader ended up meeting dean through sam. They had similar personalities but (reader) was more of a hopeless romantic than Dean. Sam on the other hand could totally see them together but Dean always denied it.

“Stop eyeing her like she's a piece of steak, you creep” “The hell? I do not do that, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

so they left ca and travelled and maybe in s2-3 (doesnt have to be accurate) they end up back in ca because of a case or cause reader called sam for help. (not expecting dean to show up as well) and after shes not in danger, turns out they get along really well.

"Im not an arm rest, dean." "Mhm, then why are you so short?" "I'M 5'3 THATS NORMAL"

and just fluff..? idk man let me know if its not what you want to write, i can totally change it💜

not a steak (dean winchester x f!reader)

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ 1k celebration

wow remember when i could actually write things in a timely manner? yeah, me neither. i miss those days (that never existed). whomp whomp.

You don't necessarily remember the exact moment that you met Sam. He's been a constant in your life since you were his TA as an undergraduate, watching this freakishly tall freshman so eager to succeed in your class. He made your heart soft, and he made you feel protective. Even though he was so much bigger than you, a naivety in his persona made you take extra time to ensure he succeeded. He ended up getting an A in the class.

You do remember when you met Dean, however. You had heard stories of Dean from Sam the few times you'd catch lunch outside of school. By this point, you were a grad student, filling the void of the older sibling that Sam unconsciously needed filled. You never pried for too many details, and that's how you got people to shut up really fast. But you did meet Dean right as he left town to look for his Dad. Dean was coarse and dismissive of you as if you were just another roadblock stopping him from taking his brother. When you finally got his attention, it was just to size you up before wordlessly climbing into his car. Sam seemed apologetic, but mostly, you were just worried. You had every right to be. Jessica died a week later.

The thing about you is that you can't let a dead dog lie. Where's the fun in that? You'd much rather figure out ways to raise them.

Sam was brilliant, but he let enough details slip to allow you to research him. And you were a law graduate student; you knew a thing or two about studying. Random newspaper clippings, shoutouts of various names, and blog posts allowed you to figure out the supernatural aspect of his life that he had kept from you. You should've been more surprised, but you were more excited than anything. There was more out there. What a strangely relieving thought.  

This knowledge proved helpful when you realized you had a poltergeist.

The new place you moved into was charming and Victorian, the dream of everyone with a Pinterest board. It was in fairly decent shape, and with your roommates, you guys thought you could polish it up to something livable during your suffering years of graduate school. Unfortunately, the price was too good to be true, which led to the unfortunate circumstance of hauntings culminating in one of your roommates in the hospital, barely alive. You called Sam that night.

"Hey Sam, it's me…" you trailed off at that, feet tucked under you as the machines' beeping cut through the silence. "I need your help."

The next day, he was at your door, enveloping you in a hug. He smelled exactly the same, and you didn't realize how much you missed him. Dean was with him.

"I'm Dean," he nodded, holding out a hand. You raised a brow.

"We've met."

"I would've remembered someone who looks like you," Dean scoffs, an easy smirk on his lips that probably made many women swoon. You just rolled your eyes, going back into your house and hoping Sam followed.

A week later, the boys were still here. This ghost was frustrating, and it was more the principle of it that was pissing you off more than anything. You let the brothers stay at the house since it was safer in numbers and cheaper. Plus, your roommates took a wide berth of the place before returning. A routine developed in the short time they were here. You cooked breakfast, Sam made coffee, and Dean woke up at some point. You and Sam would enjoy the paper before something happened (usually related to the crossword that Dean was totally not interested in), and you ended up bickering with the older Winchester until Sam got fed up with it and shut it down.

"Stop eyeing her like she's a piece of steak," Sam muttered to Dean when you weren't around, having stormed off to some other corner of the house. Dean almost spit out his coffee.

"The hell? I do not do that. I have no clue what you're talking about."

Sam just nodded, hiding a smirk behind his book as Dean grumbled about not checking you out.

For the first time that week, Sam was out that night. He was following "a lead." What that lead was, no one knew, but it meant you were alone. With Dean. In a house. Without supervision.

You grumbled something about making dinner. Dean followed you.

"Are you lost?" you asked, hands on your hips as Dean plopped himself at the counter.

"I'm following the food."

"Of course you are."

"Please, no more rabbit food," Dean groaned. "I can't take it anymore."

"Oh no, definitely not," you smirked, pulling out some steaks from the fridge you had been saving. Dean's eyes immediately lit up. "You're helping me cook these. I'm not letting your dumb ass sit around while I prepare a meal."

"You're bossy," Dean grumbles but doesn't complain further as he removes his flannel and sets it on the chair. You ignore that he looks really good in a t-shirt and return to grabbing ingredients. To his credit, Dean is good at letting you tell him what to do and following through. He is definitely a better chef than Sam, who has burned many things in your kitchen. Dean is an excellent sous chef. You tell him as such.

"The hell? I am not a sous," he says while furiously stirring butter.

"It's a compliment, you knobhead."

"Knobhead? What 1950s show are you living in?"

This conversation went back and forth for a while. But you finished cooking a meal, which is always considered a success in your book. Dean devoured him almost immediately before you could even finish cutting through it. Then, it was just you attempting to finish your meal in peace. This was difficult, as Dean continuously kept eyeing your food, hoping you might give it to him, and then would complain outwardly when you didn't.

"You're not going to finish it," he drank his beer, once again looking at your dinner. You glared.

"I can finish it."

"A girl like you doesn't finish an entire steak."

That comment pissed you off. You finished your steak in two bites, shocking Dean, and then proceeded to grab his glass of beer and down it in one gulp. You slammed the glass down, raising a brow. "You have no clue what type of girl I am."

You grabbed both your plates and made your way to the kitchen, putting them in the sink and starting to clean the dishes. You barely made it through a plate before Dean pushed you out of the way.

"Dean—"

"I'm not questioning your ability, but in my world, the one who doesn't cook cleans. So, sit your ass down," Dean said before you could chew him out. You bit the inside of your cheek and sat down, still glaring at him as he washed each dish meticulously and put them either in the dishwasher or on the drying rack. When he was done, he threw the dishtowel over his shoulder. The domesticity made you soften. "I'm sorry for earlier."

You blinked, not really expecting any sort of apology from Dean Winchester. You did expect that you would not get anything besides those words.

"I don't understand women."

You laughed at that, leaning on your hand with your elbow on the table. "Aren't you a self-proclaimed ladies' man?"

"I know how to sleep with women, but I don't get what goes through your heads," Dean leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "You want one thing and then a different thing, and I can't keep up."

"So, you're admitting you're slow." Dean threw the towel at you. "Women aren't that complicated; men are just bad listeners. You included."

"I can listen."

"Really? What was I frusterated about at dinner?" you challenged, getting off your seat and leaning over the counter. He blinked a few times.

"That I kept asking for your steak?"

"No, that you presumed that as a woman, I couldn't finish a steak."

"Well, that's not what I said," Dean replied, getting defensive. You just rolled your eyes, grabbing the wine bottle on the counter.

"Oh, also, insight into women; they lie about how good men actually are in the bedroom," you winked, leaving the room and taking the wine with you. You could almost hear Dean's jaw drop.

"It ain't a lie, princess," he intercepted you, his stupid legs moving much faster than yours. You frowned but didn't say anything. Dean took a breath, locking eyes with you. "Why do you insist on always pushing my buttons?"

"Because it's fun? Because you're both annoying and easy to annoy?" you shrugged, clutching your wine bottle to your chest. You didn't know why you picked on him, besides the fact he could be an absolute ASS sometimes that needed kicking. No, you suppose it goes back to early schoolyard days where instead of 'flirting,' you'd push the person and maybe claim to the entire class that they had cooties. To this day, you still had no idea what cooties exactly were, just that you never wanted to catch them.

"I think you like me," Dean smirked. He had crowded you against the wall leading to the living room. Your wine was an innocent bystander clutched to your chest. Maybe not as tall as Sam, but you still had to look up to see him. "I'm gonna prove it."

"Excuse me?" you breathed any sort of bite to your words caught in your throat as he reached up to your face and stroked your cheek. His hands found purchase holding your neck, tilting your face even higher and infinitely closer. Dean took the wine bottle out of your hands, your last line of defense, and stepped away for a second to put it back on the counter. His hands found your face again.

"Hey princess," he whispered, voice sultry. "Breathe." You couldn't do such a thing even if you wanted to because his lips were on yours, and he tasted like the draft beer in your fridge and apple pie. He was gentle, too gentle, and you wanted more. Your hands, first unsure of what to do, grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. One of his hands moved to your waist, thumb brushing the exposed skin where your shirt rode up. He was everywhere all at once, masculinity encapsulated, and you were drowning in it. He pulled away, letting you breathe, the command you forgot to follow. "I wanted to do that since I saw you."

"Bullshit."

"Honest to god— well, not god, but honest— but then you had to go and be increasingly difficult," Dean scoffed, still holding on to you.

"You don't even remember the first time we met."

"Of course I do; it was a week after my Dad disappeared," Dean responded. "You were wearing pajamas and had a raincoat wrapped around you as you asked Sam not to go so that you could figure it out together. I was curt, and you looked like you wanted to call me a thousand horrible names, but you let it go as we drove away."

You smiled a little at that. "You do remember."

"What can I say? I like pushing your buttons."

You smacked him on the chest, earning a laugh as you fought off your smile. You did finally get your wine and let Dean choose something to watch. About halfway through your movie (and three glasses of pinot noir in), you got distracted by a makeout session that would've made your teenage self swoon, but it didn't progress more than that. Neither of you wanted to go too fast. Most of the time, it was just light conversation, cuddling, and the realization that maybe you two were much more alike than you thought.

Both of you fell asleep like that on the couch, blissfully unaware of the morning light. Sam came home early in the morning, dropping his bags before seeing the both of you entwined on the couch. A smile crossed his face.

"Finally."

taglist: @lover-of-books-and-tea @qardasngan @evasmlp

[builtbybrokenbells]

Gold Dust Woman | iii

A confession that was long overdue makes life even more complicated than before. Y/n has to make the hard decision of logic or emotion, only to realize that the answer she is so desperately seeking brings even more questions, and holds no comfort at all.

Read part two here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader, sam kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 13.1k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it), fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!reveiving), oral (m!receiving), face-fucking, choking, praise, touch of orgasm denial, biting, overstimulation, name calling, pet-names, multiple orgasms (male & female), dirty talk, some fluff, angst if you squint (light arguing, mostly just the plot line angst), feelings of guilt, swearing, sorry if i miss any!

howdy. im back from the dead 😁 here’s a little apology for all you wonderfully patient people. thanks for sticking with me ♥️ this is basically porn with plot. sorry if it’s not fantastic, i really wanted to get this out for you guys so some parts are a bit rushed and it’s poorly edited. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

“Why now, Sam?” You asked, still trying to wrap your head around the information. His hand was still resting atop yours, the heat of his skin searing and the feeling just as electrifying. He didn’t respond, just took the opportunity to watch your face, studying the details like he was dependent upon it. You raised your eyebrow, prying for an answer.

“Now is as good as any time, right? Something about living in the moment, or whatever.” He shrugged, the boyish charm of his humour showing. While it usually made you swoon, now it was infuriating.

“No, not really.” You laughed, but it wasn’t because the situation was humorous. You had no idea what else to do, and that was the only sound that wanted to make an appearance. “Maybe a few months ago? Last week? Last night, even?”

“Why does it matter?” He asked, thinking he could catch you in your lie.

“Because it does!” You exclaimed, keeping your voice as quiet as possible. The last thing you wanted was to make a scene and get everyone else involved. To get Jake involved, more specifically. “I’ve been in love with you for…” you paused, looking past him and settling your gaze on the wall. You needed to gather your thoughts before continuing. Your emotions were high, which never meant anything good. You much preferred to use logic instead of emotion, and the last two days had been completely void of anything logical. “A long time, Sam.” You finally said, looking back to him. “A really long time, and you never gave me any idea that you felt the same way.”

“You never said anything, either.” He defended, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach. Had he known you felt so strongly for him, he might have acted sooner.

“Because every time you come over, you always seem to want to talk to every girl other than me. You always acted like I was just another one of the guys, not that you liked me, too.” You could see the look of regret form on his face, but you didn’t feel bad for saying it. You were hurt, completely baffled that he’d waited so long. “And the one night…” you took a deep breath, forcing the words to come out, even if you didn’t want them to. “The one night I wasn’t sitting there watching you, waiting for you to pay attention to me like a lost puppy, is the night you notice. The night I finally decided to have fun, instead of just existing, you happen to be watching me, too. The night you see another guy paying attention to me was when you finally decided to speak up? Like I was only worth liking when you were scared you couldn’t have me?”

“No, y/n. It’s not like that.” He shut the idea down, realizing how bad it looked, now. “I mean, yeah, it definitely made me want to speak up, to say something before I lost the chance, but that’s not why I’m telling you.”

“Months, Sam. You can’t tell me you didn’t notice. My entire world revolves around you, and you waited until someone else made a move?” You didn’t realize the extent of your words; once you said them, his demeanour changed.

“So, it was more than a game of beer pong?” He questioned, but he didn’t sound angry. Your stomach dropped, realizing you had sold yourself out. When you didn’t respond, he took it as more than enough of an answer. A small smile graced his lips, one that was more than unexpected. You didn’t like the look in his eye, like you’d just lit a fire inside him. “I have competition?”

“No, Sam.” You shook your head, shutting it down before he could go any further. “No competition. Not a game, or a race. This isn’t like that.” But he wasn’t listening, already straightening up in his seat with a smirk adorned on his lips, like he’d been waiting to reveal this idea to you, but didn’t know when he should. “Sam,” you warned. He moved his hand from yours, making a move to stand, now. You got up, too, not willing to let him leave without any more conversation. Once you were both standing, he didn’t turn away. Instead, he stepped towards you, brushing your hair from your face. Your heart sped at the sudden contact, not expecting it.

“It’s okay,” he assured you, running his thumb over your cheek. You couldn’t help but lean into him, feeling the same gravitational pull you felt with his brother. Maybe it was a Kiszka thing, or it was just something they had in common. That, you weren’t sure of. You were sure of the heavenly feeling of his hand on you, and how badly you wanted to stay like that, forever. “You can have your fun with him, because I know you’ll end up with me, princess. I’ll make sure of it.” He promised, no tone of joking present within the statement.

“Sam,” you breathed, wanting to put a stop to the situation before it could start. Even so, you couldn’t help but feel your head swirl at the closeness of his face. The scent of incense was still lingering on his clothes even after a long night of drinking, captivating you and pulling you in even further. Through all the similarities you’d noticed between him and his brother, the feeling of their touch was so different. Both fantastic, but so unlike one another. The idea of kissing Sam was almost comforting, like a promise of safety after a long journey. The thought of kissing Jake felt almost forbidden, like it had to be kept a secret, but it was exhilarating. It was a battle of thrill and security; you’d never had much of an issue with it before, but now it seemed impossible to choose.

“Why are you saying my name like that? I haven’t even done anything to deserve it, yet.” He hummed, pulling you into him a little more. You were certain he could sense the effect his words had on you. Your chests were practically pressed together, heartbeats synced and rapid. You were torn, stuck between the satisfaction of finally having him in such a way, and guilt for doing it behind Jakes back. For something you’d been wishing about for so long, it was producing a lot of conflicting emotions.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake was well aware of what was happening in the kitchen. He’d caught on as soon as Sam followed you in there, and he wasn’t mad about it. Anyone with a set of eyes could tell you had feelings for Sam, but he was confident in his ability to win you over, too. Both boys had the same deadly mindset, no worry in their mind that they would lose the game. Their cockiness and determination was leaving them blind to the reality of the situation. Both were so certain they could win you over that they were forgetting they were playing with real emotions, yours and their own.

But, it’s nothing if not human nature to be selfish, and in this specific triad, greed was the only motivator.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You finally said, but you knew you didn’t mean it; there was nothing you wanted more.

“No?” He questioned, using his finger to tilt your chin upwards. “You want me to stop?” You wanted to say yes, to push him away and forget the whole thing ever happened, but you couldn’t seem to find the strength within yourself to do so. His stare was captivating and his touch was invigorating.

“Just kiss me.” You expelled, once again unwilling to think about any consequences. Permission was all he needed to proceed. He leaned down, capturing you in a kiss that was sweet enough to make you forget your worry. It was different than any you’d had before; filled with emotion and not reliant on lust. It was over soon after it started, and unlike the moments you shared with Jake, the ending of the kiss with Sam left you with a feeling of fulfillment and relief. For the first few seconds, at least. Then, a crashing wave of panic followed.

He picked up on your change of demeanour, immediately pulling you into an embrace to soothe the after effects. He held you to him, hand rubbing circles in over your back in attempt to calm you down. “Hey, it’s okay.” He assured you, finally realizing that he may have put a little too much pressure on you. When you didn’t respond, he pulled back to get a look at your face. He wasn’t expecting you to pull him into another kiss, shocked at the suddenness of your actions.

He snaked his hand to your hip, the other cupping your cheek in a loving hold. This one was hungrier, a type of desperation laced within it. He assumed it was for him, but in truth, it was desperation for an answer. You thought if you could pinpoint the exact emotion the kiss produced within you, it would make your choice a lot easier. For a moment, it did. When you pulled away, it seemed like the world made sense again. The comfort from the short moment you shared with him was incomprehensible; something you’d been yearning for forever. The logical thing would be to let Jake go, to understand that at the end of the day, you had real feelings for Sam that had been solidified even further with time. To understand the animalistic nature of your attraction to Jake was just that, and nothing more.

The right way to go about it was to end your entanglement with Jake, and pursue the relationship with Sam. You understood that had this happened just a day sooner, there would be no internal debate or struggle about being with Sam. You had to act based on that, because bouncing between both boys was immoral and wrong. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt either of them, and allowing things to continue as such would only result in a catastrophic failure. But, even as you came to terms with the fact of the matter, you still felt saddened at the thought of losing Jake. You wanted Sam, that much was undeniable, but just within a day, Jake had earned a spot in your heart and didn’t seem to want to leave.

You yearned for the opportunity to be with Sam for so long that you seemed to put him on an untouchable pedestal. One where he was almost angelic and was viewed as if he could do no wrong. That was the issue with crushes, because it always made the subject appear like they were above all else. And, the idea of them was solely based on imagination. Whereas with Jake, you had actually been with him. Your idea of him wasn’t a fallacy; it was more real than anything you had ever shared with Sam. You knew his hands, his mouth, and his ability to bring you to your knees with just a glance. The version of Sam you had in your head was complete fantasy, and the idea of Jake was reality. And because of that, he was settled in your bones like sediment and was weighing you down while you tried to make the right decision.

“You’re evil,” You sighed, looking over his face. He gave a small chuckle in response, still hesitant to let you go.

“I never said I would make it easy on you.” He teased, giving you a smile. “Think about it, princess. You don’t have to give us an answer right now.”

“You’re asking me an impossible question.”

“Not impossible, just difficult.” He corrected, as if it would make you feel any better. “Like I said, I’m not worried.” You fought back an eye-roll at his statement. He was so caught up in his own cockiness to realize you were hurting over it. This was not the position you wanted to be in, and although he wasn’t helping, you had dug your own grave by giving in to temptation for both of them.

The sounds of footsteps in the hallway caused both of you to part, shying away from each other as if you’d committed a crime. You quickly sat back down, burying your face in your cup of coffee to hide your rosy cheeks and guilty expression. Danny and Josh walked into view, almost immediately picking up on the tense nature in the room. Danny looked as if he was about to comment on it, but decided not to. He always seemed to notice when you were acting out of the ordinary. “I think we’re gonna head out. You coming?” He eventually asked Sam. The boy looked to you one last time, but gave a nod. “We’re still on for lunch, tomorrow?” Danny turned his attention to you, now.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll pick you up at 12?”

“Yeah, perfect.” He agreed.

“Thanks for coming over.” You smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be back soon?”

“You can’t get rid of us that easily.” Josh assured you. You bid your goodbyes, eyes following them as they walked towards the front door. You listened for the sound of the door shutting before slumping down into your seat. You pulled your head into your hands, fingers tangling in the roots of your hair and gently pulling at them.

You knew what you had to do, but you wanted to process it before having to face Jake. You could hear the gentle hum of the guitar from the living room, taunting you with serenity. The sound was much too calming for your situation. The idea of joining him in the living room produced nothing but unease within you; knowing you had to go in there and tell him to leave was agonizing, because deep down, you still wanted him to stay. You were completely caught in your own mess but couldn’t find the strength to have sympathy for yourself, knowing you’d created it all on your own. Right vs. Wrong was barely existing within you, because every possibility seemed to be a little bit of both.

You thought that the shared moment with Sam would have solved everything, that it would have made the turmoil make sense. In a strange way, it did. In many more ways, it made it worse. So, you stood, no real plan in mind, and walked to the living room with intent to settle your mistakes, to right them in some sense, even if you weren’t sure how to. When you appeared in the entryway, Jake didn’t even seem to notice your presence. Instead of announcing it, you watched him for a moment, admiring him while you still could. His hair was framing his face, cascading down in a sea of brown and perfectly showcasing his features. His eyes were settled on his hand, gracing the fretboard with their talent. He seemed to be playing so effortlessly, like it was more natural than breathing. You supposed, to him, it was.

You didn’t notice the trance you’d found yourself in until he looked up at you. The simple eye contact was powerful enough to steal the air from your lungs. It only took a smile for you to forget what you’d come to talk to him about. “Alone at last, Gold Dust Woman.”

‘Fuck.’ you thought to yourself. As confident as you were in your decision, your ability to follow through was diminishing more by the second. ‘Damn him and his pretty face.’

“Come to break the bad news?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. Your blood ran cold, unsure of how he knew without you even speaking a word. He gave a small smirk at the expression on your face, wondering if you would come clean or not.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” you said once you’d gathered your thoughts. He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at you.

“I told you, angel. You’re not a very good liar.” He searched beside him, finding the case for the guitar. He unplugged the cord before gently setting the instrument where it belonged.

“M’sorry,” you mumbled, unsure of what exactly you were apologizing for. Part of you felt it was because it was a show of guilt for your actions, the other part of you thought it may be because you were ending whatever you’d started with him.

“For?” He questioned, sitting back against the cushion of the couch. In place of an answer, you stared, realizing you still hadn’t made up your mind, despite being certain you had. Maybe it was his aura, so intense and alluring, or perhaps it was due to the unfulfilled promise you had made to each other. Either way, any coherent decision and moral was long gone now that he was in front of you. “Hmm?” You swallowed hard, only focused on his hand resting in his lap. The curious hand that started it all, the one that contained all of his power.

“I, uh…” his eyes never left your face, making your nervous demeanour even worse. He expelled a long breath, almost as if he was annoyed for having to answer for you again.

“Sorry that you were sneaking around with my brother?” He theorized. “Or sorry that you were caught?”

“How did you know?” You finally mustered the strength to speak up. He gave a shrug, one that radiated carelessness. He didn’t give a single shit about what you’d done with Sam, and it was blatantly obvious.

“It’s written all over your face, sweetheart.” He let out a laugh, like he couldn’t believe you were so oblivious to your own stature. “Everyone knows you like Sam, y/n. We’re not blind.”

“So why did you start whatever this is?” You asked, feeling annoyance bubble in your chest. If he was so aware of your feelings, there was no logical reason for him to instigate a relationship with you.

“I can’t give you all of the answers.” He replied, nonchalant and unapologetic for his actions.

“At least give me some!” Your frustration was apparent; both boys had been elusive and indirect about their motives, and it was driving you insane. If their intent was to drive you crazy, it was working. He let out a little sigh, as if your inquiries were an inconvenience.

“You like Sam, Sam likes you.” He stated, as if he were explaining the situation to a child. You clenched your teeth, slowly becoming more angry as he continued on. “I like you, you like me.” He paused again, waiting for confirmation of the fact. You wanted to shut the idea down, deny that you had any interest in him. But, you couldn’t, because it simply wasn’t true. If you had no feelings for Jake, it would have been easy to tell him to leave, to end the debate without a second thought. Instead, you were struggling with the simple idea, let alone the execution. As much as you hated to admit it, you did like Jake, and you liked him way more than you originally thought.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Now we have a level playing field.” He shrugged. “If you’re going to pick between us, it should at least be a fair decision.”

“So you guys decided this on your own?” You couldn’t help but feel a bit betrayed at the knowledge, that they’d let you drown in guilt and regret while they knew what was happening the whole time.

“I think you decided it, too, actually.” He explained. “You haven’t told me to leave yet.”

“Okay, leave.” You snipped, crossing your arms over your chest in annoyance. He laughed at your command, finding the bossy persona entertaining.

“Is that really what you want, sweetheart?” The longer you looked at him, the more you felt the urge to strangle him. Something about his air of superiority was insufferable; the nature of his entitlement was off-putting, almost like he knew you were bluffing, even before you did. You couldn’t find the strength to confirm your statement, because the truth was that you were dreading his departure.

The whole situation was ridiculous, completely unnecessary and utterly pointless. In the battle of winning you over, they didn’t seem to realize that they were only pitting themselves against each other. The promise of affection from you simply wasn’t enough to excuse the loss of their relationship, and you wanted them to understand that before they took it too far. You were well aware of how dangerous the game was, but even so, you were enjoying it despite the fact. Something about being loved by a Kiszka was euphoric, and to have it from both of them was more than enough of a reason to ignore any potential consequences.

“This isn’t a good idea, Jake.” You whispered.

“It’s a better idea than one of us sitting back and suffering in silence. We both have a fair shot, now.” You shook your head, baffled at his inability to see the issue. “We know what we’re doing, angel.” He promised. “Now, tell me the truth. Do you really want me to leave?” You felt dirty even holding a desire for him to stay. The idea of being pursued by both brothers was thrilling, but unsettling, especially knowing that it was bound to be a catastrophe. Knowing that they were aware of the situation and were actively trying to win you over was no comfort; all it served was a reminder that they were obviously not thinking clearly. You knew you should shut it down, stop it before anything bad could happen, but that pull he possessed was stronger than ever. You felt like you were gravitating towards him without even realizing it, with no means to stop it.

He stood, now, slowly making his way towards you. The gentle nature of his movements were like a cloud of a reassurance, a silent promise that he would take care of you and aid you in forgetting any of the worries you had. It was their charm in action once again; both of them had the ability to make you see past even the worst of decisions. The air surrounding him even radiated with a sense of calmness, like everything would be okay as long as he was around.

As his hands landed on your hips, your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling. Morally, you knew you should have recoiled, shied away from his touch and told him to leave. You came in with the intent to do so, and still hadn’t let go of the nagging thought. Then again, you felt the same way when Sam was touching you like so. Afterwards, you seemed to have a new found sense of clarity. You thought that the clarity might make a reappearance if you kissed Jake, that the decision would be so much easier if you allowed it one last time. That way, you could have an unbiased opinion on both feelings, and make a plan accordingly. You repeated that thought in your head until you believed it.

Once again, you’d failed to see the repercussions of your actions, blinded by your own stupidity and lack of self-control. In no world was allowing the kiss an intelligent decision. But, you wanted him so badly that in the moment, it seemed only right to do so. The devil was a master at his own game, and you’d fallen right into his trap. As certain as you may have been about your course of action upon your arrival, deep down you knew that Jake would never let you go so easily. “You should go, Jake.” You managed to get the words out, despite not wanting to say them. He was close enough that you could practically feel the warmth radiating off him. His face was just close enough to taunt you, his lips so easily accessible that it was hard to think of anything else.

“I didn’t ask if I should, I asked if you wanted me to leave.” He reminded, the low hum of his voice vibrating through you. You took in a long breath, keeping your eyes closed in hopes it would help you to follow through with your statement. “Because if I remember correctly, you were the one who wanted me to stay.”

“That was before everything got complicated.” You said, barely speaking loud enough for him to hear.

“I don’t think it’s complicated at all, angel.” He lifted a hand to your face, cupping your cheek with the utmost care and caution. Your heart was pounding against your ribs, stomach twisted in a knot, knowing that if you didn’t put a stop to his antics, you’d end up in the same position as you were the night prior. “I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it.” The devil inside you was partnering with the one that was possessing him, pushing you further into his arms. “If that���s what you want, of course.”

You did; you’d been starving for it since he’d given you the first taste. Even if it was wrong, the temptation was too high to turn him away. “You’re despicable,” you breathed, finding the truth of the statement proper for both brothers. Relentless and utterly despicable in their charm.

“You like it.” He taunted, knowing all too well that he was correct. He awaited a verbal answer, but the time for talking was through. Before he could get another word out, you leaned forward and closed the gap between your mouths. As much as he was hoping for the outcome, he was shocked at the suddenness of your motion. It only took him a few seconds to catch up to speed, pulling you into him and responding with as much enthusiasm as you were giving him. The internal struggle you were caught up in was immediately silenced; the only thing that mattered was him, and how you never wanted to forget how it felt to have him on your skin.

When you broke away from each other, you were too far gone to take a moment to reassess the situation, only thinking about the promises of the night prior. There was no more debate on whether he should leave. The thought of not finishing what you had started was unbearable; the idea of his departure was excruciating. You decided that you could decide later, that the damage was already done and you were only allowing yourself to be fully educated before picking your path. You could wallow in your guilt later, but for the moment, Jake was the only thing you could think about.

The human ability to overlook pain for momentary pleasure is abstruse.

“Still want me to leave?” He asked, breathless from the kiss. Although yes was the best answer to his question, you were aware that he wouldn’t even make it to the door before you were chasing after him.

“Shut up,” you snapped, still annoyed from the events that unfolded, and on edge from the pent up sexual tension. His grip on you tightened at the harsh words, picking up on your energy and preparing to match it. “Are you going to finish what you started?”

“Don’t expect to speak to me like that and get what you want.” He warned, lips still hovering over your own. You didn’t cower under the authority, too worked up to submit just yet.

“You can’t walk away either, and you know it.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.” He muttered. He knew he wouldn’t, but he absolutely could if he wanted to. He’d mustered the strength to do it once, and he knew he could do it again. Instead of continuing the bickering, you snaked your hand around to the back of his neck and pulled him into another kiss. It was needy, both of you trying to make up for the state you left each other in the night before. A messy struggle ensued, a battle of trying to remove each others clothes without breaking a kiss.

He managed to free you from your shirt, only breaking away from you for a second. You took the opportunity to do the same to him, wasting no time returning back to each other. Now his hands had the opportunity to roam your upper body; the feeling of him on you was better than you remembered it, perhaps because you were sober, or maybe just because you wanted him so badly. It didn’t really matter which it was, you only cared about him never stopping. He guided you towards the couch, neither of you bothered by the fact you were still in the living room. You had both come to the conclusion that the bedroom was too far away and were content with the current location.

Once you were secure on the sofa, he hooked his fingers through the sides of your shorts, pulling them off in a swift motion. There was no more willingness to wait, you were both starving for each other. He settled between your legs, reminding you so strikingly of the night prior that you were almost scared he would leave again. Your worry subsided when his hands returned to your body, knowing no other thought could override how he was making you feel. His lips curiously drifted over every available part of you, remembering every sensitive spot while he used the gesture to appreciate you all at the same time.

You could tell his patience had greatly diminished since the night before. He seemed less concerned with teasing, focused more on catching you up to his speed than anything else. In that moment, you understood just how hard it was for him to walk away from you. His plan had worked; you hadn’t stopped thinking about him once, but he achieved it at a price. His determination for the long game had faltered, and he was caught in your web just as much as you were in his. His silence spoke volumes, proving further that fucking you had been the only thing on his mind.

His fingers slipped between your legs, the act as natural as breathing for him. He took a moment to appreciate the arousal that had begun to pool, but didn’t hover too long. His thumb found its way to your clit, barely applying any pressure. Even so, the small action caused your breath to hitch in your throat. A hard realization washed over you; his hands didn’t only posses such power when you were drunk and everything seemed fantastic. You were sober, no diminished inhibitions and all normal brain power restored, and he still felt better than anything you had ever experienced. The devil inside him was constant, not encouraged by intoxication or any other means. The version of Jake you knew from the night before was the same one in front of you, now. You were gutted at the thought, knowing that liquor didn’t have any effect on the situation; he was just as charming, and you were just as willing to fall for it.

He gradually increased the pressure of his thumb, the small action quickly turning you into a mess below him. He barely had to touch you to drive you crazy. He watched your face, intent on seeing every micro-expression you were willing to make. He had yet to speak a word, and you almost didn’t want him to. As good as he made you feel, there was a part of you that was still pissed off at him. You continued to tell yourself that this was solely to settle the score, to finish what you started and move on, but you knew it wasn’t true. The intense emotions incurring within you were a direct result of his minuscule actions. Without a doubt, that told you that whatever your situation was, it wouldn’t end with your orgasm. It was far beyond sex, now. If it was just a hookup, or just for the sake of sex, you would have no issue telling him to leave. If you wanted to hook up with someone, all you had to do was go to the nearest bar. Whatever this was, was laced with emotion and coated with complexity. Even with his hands on you so intimately, you were terrified of him walking out the door.

When his fingers slipped inside you once more, you were ashamed to admit that the thought of Sam was long gone. Whatever evil Jake was doing, he was doing it unfathomably well. The spell he casted over you made it impossible to think of anything other than him, and it was terrifying. You knew that even with the knowledge of a future filled with suffering, that moment made it all worth it. The things you were willing to do to keep having him like this was despicable, and they made you feel dirty for even thinking such a way. But, as you grew to understand in the last twenty-four hours, Jake was inescapable, and part of you was okay with that. As much as it made the nature of your predicament so much more complicated, it radiated an air of comfort. That was another revelation that made your decision so much harder; the thought of cutting him off was unbearable, but the idea of continuing on as such was anxiety inducing. No matter which way you looked at it, every possibility seemed terrible.

“Does that feel good, angel?” The gravelly tone immediately stopped any forebodings before they could surface. In an instant, just with a few words, he had you completely immersed in his being once more. His caring nature seemed to be genuine, but there was a distant look in his eye that made you second guess the sincere impression. You thought maybe it was a question pertaining to his ego, and the idea did not take you as a surprise in the slightest. Still, with how generous his actions were, you had no problem feeding into him a little bit.

“Feels so good, baby.” You sighed, reaching down and cupping his cheek in your palm. The pet name seemed to spark a fire in him, his eyes darkening and his jaw clenching. He took in a long breath through his nose, seeming to relax him and allow him to focus back on his objective. He sped his movements slightly, letting his thumb brush over your clit with every pump of his fingers. “God, please don’t stop.” You whined, back arching off the cushion of the couch begging for just a bit more contact.

“Being so good for me, baby.” He stated, his mind clearly fully immersed in your face. “You know I’ll give you whatever you want.” And he wasn’t lying, although the terms were subjective and almost always his own. You had little say on when you could get what you wanted. Still, you knew that anything at all from Jake was well worth the world, even if you had to suffer first. “You gonna cum for me?” He asked, picking up on the furrow of your eyebrows, the slight part in your lips and the laboured breathing. Even if he’d only seen the expression once before, he could recognize it anywhere. It hadn’t left his mind.

“Y-Yeah,” you stuttered, eyes squeezed shut and the burning in the pit of your stomach growing more intense with every second that passed. You both knew it wouldn’t take much more, but you were afraid he would pull away before you could. Jake’s arrogance left you constantly on edge, wondering if his words were true or laced with deception. Not in a terrible, untrustworthy way, but in a sense so minor that it made you second guess yourself, slowly driving you insane and leaving you begging for more. He’d never lie to you about anything important, but he was quite keen on being an asshole in the bedroom. That was part of his whole wicked agenda. You were certain he only harnessed such a persona to keep you guessing what his next move was, to keep you on his hook.

“Come on, angel.” He encouraged. The three words sent a rush of relief through you, settling the fear and letting you know he wanted it just as badly. He didn’t have to work much harder, because within a few seconds you were coming undone. It was a mess of heavy breathing and slurs of moans decorated with his name. He coaxed you through it, soaking up every detail of the experience as he watched you. “So beautiful,” he breathed, muttering the words to himself as you came down from the high. You would have missed his statement if you had not been immersed in every word and action he gave. Another rush of emotion ran through you, but this one was different than the normal feeling of arousal he usually produced within you. It was endearing, the type of statement that made your cheeks heat with a blush and a smile fight its way onto your lips. It was genuine, and you were certain you could live a lifetime surviving solely off of compliments from him.

He made a move to stand, sending you into a panic, worried he would decide he was going to leave again. He gave a small chuckle at your expression as he steadied himself on his feet. “Don’t leave.” You sat up, head still buzzing from the intensity of the orgasm. You planted your palms on the cushion of the couch to keep yourself upright. “Please.”

“I’m not, baby. Don’t worry.” He reached out, guiding your chin upwards with his hand so he could get a good look at your face. The worry in your eyes was evident, but the sincerity in his face rivalled it. You gave a small nod, opting to trust him. Your eyes drifted downwards, settling on the bulge in his jeans. He was clearly worked up himself, maybe even more than you were. He released his gentle hold on your face to undo his belt. You took in a long breath, trying to keep your excitement from showing to much.

He tossed the belt to the side, continuing his work at freeing himself from his pants. When his jeans and boxers were discarded on the floor, you bit down on the inside of your lip to keep yourself from letting out a gasp. He stood, fully exposed in front of you, and even more attractive than you could have imagined. You were no stranger to the fact that Jake was beautiful, but the sight before you was breathtaking. His cock was eye level with you, tip red and glistening with pre-cum, and even larger than anticipated. Your mouth was practically watering, and you felt your arousal growing more by the second. You reached out, grabbing his hand and pulling him a little closer to you. Before he could comprehend what you were doing, you had slipped off the couch and onto your knees in front of him.

You took him into your mouth, and although he wasn’t expecting it, it was more than welcomed. The relief he felt from the small act was quite evident. He let out a low groan, bringing his hand to the back of your head and gathering your hair. He kept a gentle hold on the strands, not enough to cause you any discomfort, but enough for you to know that he was still in control. You slowly worked yourself up to speed, focusing on the head for a moment before gaining the confidence to take him further. He didn’t push you, content with anything you were willing to give him. Despite his silence on the matter, he was desperate for you, too. After you familiarized yourself with him, your need for him grew. You relaxed your jaw, allowing easier access, and took him as far as you could. Once the feeling became less foreign, you started at a steady pace.

His grip in your hair tightened and his breathing sped, a sure sign that he thought you were doing a good job. “Fuck, y/n.” He groaned, doing his best to stop himself from thrusting in time with your movements. “Doing such a good job, angel.” He didn’t want to push you, but you were both at the point of forgoing any gentle nature. The pent-up frustration from recent events were coming to an explosive climax; any and all formalities of the first time were no longer needed, and the lust was driving you both feral for each other. Your gaze fluttered up to meet his face, your stature refusing to falter. When he caught your eyes, it looked as though it flipped a switch inside of him. His jaw hardened, stare narrowing and the hold on your hair grew tighter still. He pulled you off him for a moment, taking a second to catch his breath.

When your eyes connected, it was almost as if an unspoken agreement was made. As if he’d turned into a whole different person, an aura of dominance surrounded him with just a slight expression change. “Tap my leg twice if you want me to stop.” He ordered. You gave a nod, understanding that you were giving up any control you had previously. If it was anyone else, you might have been nervous to do so, but not with Jake. As much as he could piss you off by times, you trusted him in every sense of the word. “I need to hear the words.”

“I will.” You promised, assuring him you would be honest. He looked over your face for any sign of discomfort, but he was met with an excited expression. With that confirmation, any loving undertone in his concern disappeared. He roughly guided your head back to its earlier position, the tip of his cock resting on your lips. You had to take a second to process the sudden change, but wasn’t fast enough for his liking.

“Open.” He snapped. Your shock over the harsh word was evident, but the change was welcomed. You felt a burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, excited at the change in pace. You did as he asked, and he wasted no time taking advantage of the compliance. He started slower than you anticipated, but it didn’t last for long. Once you had adjusted to him once more, he held your head in place and set his own pace with his hips. You did your best to keep up with him, trying to steady your breaths and relax your muscles as much as you could. You had confidence in your ability, but you had to admit that it wasn’t an easy task. If he decided to push you further, you knew it was a possibility that you would have trouble taking his whole length, especially at such a pace. Still, you persevered, knowing that pleasing him was just as, if not more pleasurable than getting off yourself.

“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He growled. The blunt statement settling inside you, weighing you down like concrete had replaced your bones. The filthy praise was exhilarating, almost sending you into another orgasm from the sound alone. The new rush of arousal that took over you was primal, all fear of underperformance disappearing instantly. You reached your hand between your legs, fingers immediately finding your clit. You desperately searched for some sort of relief while he used you as he pleased.

The whole display was obscene, certainly not where you had expected to end up when you first joined him in the living room. Still, you couldn’t find it within yourself to be upset at the shift in plan. As immoral as it was, having sex with Jake seemed to ignite a whole new part of you that you weren’t sure even existed before. After years of lighthearted flings with boys who tried too hard to act like men, you believed sex was never going to be wholeheartedly enjoyable. Instead, it felt more like a chore by times. Just one night with Jake had you rethinking the entire belief, and now experiencing it again solidified the fact that you were wrong. Never in your life had you been so elated to be wrong about something.

As Jake noticed where your hand ended up, the knowledge seemed to fuel him further. As he fucked your mouth, he used his hand to push your head down in time with his thrusts. Even though you were content with the action, you had to admit that it was a little hard to handle. Your eyes were watering and you fought back a gag with every movement of his hips. You kept his words in mind, knowing that if you wanted him to stop, he would in a heartbeat. You decided you could keep up for a little while longer, mostly because you believed he wouldn’t be able to maintain his pace for any length of time. His breathing was ragged, he was glistening with sweat, and the moans slipping from his lips were pornographic. If he didn’t slow down, you were certain he was going to cum.

One particularly deep thrust caught you off guard, causing the gag you’d been holding back to surface. Your throat constricted around him while a few tears involuntarily slipped down your cheek. In your messy state, you felt his cock twitch in your mouth. Before you had time to worry if he was going to orgasm or not, he withdrew from you completely. It took him a moment before he moved or spoke. He had to calm himself down before you moved on to something new. After a few deep breaths, he carefully released his hold on your hair. His hand drifted to your cheek and he used his thumb to wipe away the stray tears that still lingered on your skin. Then, he guided your chin upwards so you he could fully see your face. He took in the sight, wishing he could sear it into his memory.

“Such a good girl,” he hummed, eyes flickering down to your hand between your legs. “Do you like being a little whore for me?” You watched him, wide-eyed and unsure of how to answer. You felt frozen, stopping your hands movement completely, wondering knowing if he wanted a verbal answer or if it was a trick question. His hand cupped your chin, settling it in the space between his thumb and index finger. When you didn’t respond, his fingers tightened against your cheeks, trying to pry a response from you. “Answer me,” his voice was low, but demanding.

“Yes,” you nodded against his grip.

“Yes, what?” You studied him for a moment, trying to pinpoint his desire. When you caught his eye, the answer seemed to come to you with ease.

“Yes, Sir.” You said, confidently. Although he wanted to keep his demeanour firm, you couldn’t help but notice that the corners of his lips upturned ever so slightly. You could both feel the connection; how easy it was to read each other, how easy it was to please each other.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He muttered, loosening his grip on your face. “You liked it so much you couldn’t even wait for me to touch you?” Redness sprawled across your face at the question, suddenly embarrassed at the act of desperation. You quickly moved your hand, but the feeling of shame remained. “Don’t be shy, angel. S’okay.” He assured you, settling the unease that had risen within you. “Why don’t you let me help you out?” Your eyes fluttered closed, already imagining the feeling of him between your thighs again. After the thought passed, you thought it best to answer before he could change his mind.

“Yes, please.” You breathed. He let go of your face, reaching for you hand. You accepted the gesture and let him help you off the ground, noticing the ache in your knees from the hard floor.

He guided you to the couch once more, never straying from you as you sat down. He didn’t speak another word before he sunk down to his knees. He settled between your legs so naturally, like it was where he had always belonged and he’d been grievously suffering from homesickness. He hooked his arms under your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the cushion as he guided your legs over his shoulders. As he placed soft kisses to the sensitive skin of your thighs, you felt your upper body melt back into the sofa. You were excited for the next activity, but something about the gentle touch was soothingly sweet. “What have you done to me?” He mumbled, but you could feel him smiling against your skin. You reached down, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“What do you mean?” You asked, tone breathy from the closeness of his mouth to your heat.

“You’ve got me on my knees for you.” He let out a small chuckle, fingers grazing over your hips as he continued to litter marks over your thighs. “You didn’t even have to try.” You swallowed hard at the statement, realizing how quick and willing he was to abide to the change. You were both aware he was still in control, but it seemed as if he’d give you whatever you wanted with the snap of your fingers, now.

“I like it,” you smiled, the knowledge of his soft spot for you swelling your ego slightly. You knew he liked it too, even if he’d never admit it.

“I’d stay here all day if I could.” He confessed.

“Yeah?” You pressed.

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Waited all day, couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking good you taste.” With that, he brought his mouth to your cunt, not willing to wait for any type of response. You let a gasp out, an involuntary response to the feeling of his tongue on you again. His hands were talented beyond measure, but his mouth held power like no other; you were certain that if heaven was real, whatever was waiting for you beyond this lifetime was barely comparable to the euphoria Jake bestowed upon you. He ran his tongue through you, finally getting a taste of what he’d been doing to you. He let out a hum of appreciation, the small sound instantly sending a wave of pleasure through you.

You let your eyes flutter closed, enjoying the sensation as much as possible. When he’d gone down on you the first time, you believed there could be no greater pleasure. Now, you knew you were wrong. Your sobriety allowed you to fully immerse yourself in the moment, and it was better than anything you thought you felt the night prior. He started slow, taking his time really appreciate you. As much as he was pleasuring you, he was enjoying himself, too. Once he satisfied his need to tease you, he pulled back for a moment. “All of this for me, beautiful?” He asked, a small sigh sounding from him. You looked down, eyes casting over his face and soaking up his expression. He looked as if he’d just been gifted the opportunity of a lifetime to have you like this.

“All for you, baby.” You agreed, breathless just at the sight of him. His eyes fluttered closed at the sound of such a beautiful statement. He seemed as though he wanted to speak again, but couldn’t resist the temptation of what was in front of him. He pulled you down a little more, leaning forward to meet the motion. His tongue found your clit with an expert precision, like it was second nature to him. The warmth of his mouth mixed with the feeling of his fingers searing into your skin was overwhelming. You’d never admit it to him, but he already had you on the brink of an orgasm.

Without moving his mouth from you, he freed one of his arms from under your leg and guided it further to the side. The change in position couldn’t even take your mind off of the spell he was casting on you with his tongue. As if he thought he wasn’t already doing enough, he slipped his middle and ring finger inside you, gently curling his fingers upward as he did so. A guttural moan sounded from your lips, completely impossible to hold back. Your fingers tightened against the roots of his hair, a silent show of appreciation for his effort. The sound only seemed to drive him further as he placed his lips around your clit. As his fingers pumped into you, keeping the same momentum, he ever so slightly suctioned his cheeks.

With the curl of his fingers and the growing pressure on your clit, you were having a hard time keeping yourself quiet. Every movement seemed to coax another sound from you, in which he used for more motivation. He knew exactly how he was making you feel, and he was determined to continue doing so. He was encouraging you with his actions, and if he could, he’d be giving you all the praise in the world. To him, there was no better sound than the ones you were making for him. The knot forming in your belly was growing tighter by the second, both of you certain that your climax would come soon. In his true generous nature, he couldn’t find it within himself to deprive you of the feeling.

Within a few seconds of steady stimulation from both his hand and his mouth, you were coming undone below him. Profanities were slurred into the air, your grip on him tightened, and all of your muscles grew tense. Your chest heaved with shaky breaths you so badly wanted to take, but were struggling to find. The orgasm was intense, one that topped any other that came before. It was long, drawn out even further by his unwillingness to slow down. By the time the peak had passed, you had no time to recover before being thrown into another, more intense phase. He’d let up on the pressure on your clit, but his tongue had returned at a steady rhythm. His fingers were still pumping into you, hitting the sweet spot that he had found and refused to give up.

The normal post-orgasm overstimulation was quite unlike this one; it was unpleasant, mostly, and would usually cause a person to shy away from touch. The feeling that came over you while he continued was new, intense and searing through every nerve in your body, but not uncomfortable. The gentle nature of his movements were pleasurable in a whole new sense. He barely had to work for another climax. You thought that maybe it had to do with how badly your body had been craving him, how desperate you had been for his touch. It was the logical answer, but the more pressing idea was hard to overlook. The one that told you Jake was just that good. That whatever entity controlled him, or whatever entity he was, could make the most painful situations seem pleasant.

His ability to pleasure you without knowing anything about your body was unfathomable, like he’d been born solely for the purpose. Every touch was exhilarating, ever glance or expression was laced with deeper meaning, and every word was coated with a type of emotion you couldn’t fake. As much as you wanted to believe that he was possessed by the devil, you had to find a more logical explanation, but one that came to mind was much less of a comfort than the initial belief. As he guided you into another orgasm with the grace of an angel, your heart ached at the newest revelation your mind had presented.

Jake knew you so well, could pinpoint every lie and pick up on any hidden emotion, knew exactly how to please you, and knew exactly how to draw you in for one simple reason; he’d been watching you, the same way you had been watching Sam. He studied every minor detail that nobody else cared to look for, and instead of you noticing his distant admiration, you were caught up in loving his brother, who in turn was doing the same to you. The twisted nature of the situation had not begun the night before because of too much vodka and a game of beer pong. The situation had been begging to be resolved for a long time, the universe imploring someone to make a move, just to end the tireless circle of suffering. Jake was in love with you, and you were in love with Sam, and nobody picked up on the sorrow until you had all had enough.

You tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t true, that you hadn’t hurt Jake the same way his brother had been hurting you, but it was impossible to convince yourself otherwise. He even said it himself, before you found yourself in a mess of tangled limbs and unspoken truths. He liked you, and it hadn’t begun when you partnered up for a friendly match of pong. It had been blooming for a long time. The lesson you’d been dreading with Sam had manifested itself into one big lecture, now coming from every angle. And, as everyone knows, the karmic tendencies of the universe had never been forgiving. Instead of learning about what the world intended for you to know, you ignored it until it was too late. Your karma was exactly where you were in that moment; still in love with Sam, but undoubtedly falling for Jake, too. Whether that be in lust or love, you didn’t know. Instead of making the easy choice and facing up to the facts when they first arose, you now had a long road of difficult decisions ahead, and you didn’t want to let go of either feeling.

Before you could dwell any deeper about your profound regrets and emotions, a jolt of pleasure ran through you, stronger than the ones previous. Through the overstimulation, Jake had pried yet another orgasm from you at the most malicious time possible.

“F-fuck!” You expelled, head falling back deeper into the cushion. You were clenching around his hand, the burning in your stomach unwilling to settle. Your legs were shaking, hand keeping an iron grip on his hair while you cried out his name. He tapered his speed, slowing down so you could catch your breath for a moment.

“That’s it, angel.” His voice vibrated through you, making every bit of pleasure just a little more intense. “Such a good girl. Doing so good for me.” The words, the orgasm, the caring aura he was radiating were all more than enough to make a person fall in love, but emotions were the last thing you wanted to think about. After only a day, you were exhausted over stressing about the future and refusing to enjoy the present moment. So, without any fear of what was to come next, you leaned forward, pulling his head towards you at the same time, and brought him into a kiss. It was needy, sloppy, and not really well executed, but you didn’t care. You wanted access to every inch of him, finally submitting to the part of you begging to be consumed by him.

The devil doesn’t bargain; merely coerces you to see things his way, and he wanted you to believe that the worst decisions felt the best.

Jake broke the kiss, quickly moving to the spot beside you on the couch. You didn’t have time to process the change before he was scooping his arm under you and pulling you on top of him. You let your legs settle on either side of him, content with the new position. He guided your face back down to his, already yearning for another kiss. As your mouths were connected, he used one of his hands to lightly tap your ass, imploring you to sit up a little more. You obliged, feeling him reach under you to line himself up with your entrance. Instead of pulling you down onto him, he pulled back from the kiss.

“You okay?” He checked in, a bit breathless.

“Yeah,” you nodded, no promise ever holding as much truth as that one. He waited a moment, just to give you enough time to change your mind if you wanted to. When he was met with a staggering silence and a hopeful gleam in your eye, he used his hands to guide your hips down on his cock.

When he bottomed out inside you, you both let out a mutual sigh of relief. The feeling was long overdue, and you were growing impatient with the lack of movement almost instantly. He took one of his hands and cupped your cheek, his fingers tangling in the hair that was hanging over your face. He let his thumb dance over the soft skin, silently begging you to look at him. Your eyes drifted towards his face, but you almost wished they hadn’t. The expression he adorned was far more alluring than anything you had ever seen. It was so beautiful that you wished you could live in that moment for the rest of your life. It was excruciating.

Captivated in his face, you slowly began to rock your hips, giving both of you the pleasure you had been craving. The hand that remained on your hip tightened, fingers digging into your skin in the most delicious way. He moved his other hand to the back of your neck, pulling you towards him. You rested your forehead on his, basking in the intimacy. Although the softness was unexpected, you were thoroughly enjoying being so close to him. You steadied yourself with a palm on his shoulder, your other hand clasped around his arm that was holding you to him. “Does that feel good, angel?” He asked, voice low and full of lust. “This is what you wanted?”

“God, yes.” You groaned, the feeling of him inside you amplified even further by the sound of his voice. With every roll of your hips, he used extra force to bring you down onto him, just for an added effect of pleasure. The tip of his cock was hitting your cervix as you moved, making up for the slow pace by intensifying the sensation.

“I could fuck you all day,” he muttered, tightening his grip on you a bit more. “All of those pretty noises, those pretty faces… you’re driving me crazy, y/n.” He confessed, taking a sharp intake of breath as you sunk down on him again. “Feel so fucking good.” His hand snaked down to your back, pulling your body closer to him. You straightened yourself up, bracing your hand on the back of the couch for better support.

Your chest was now eye level with him, and in his true nature, he couldn’t pass up an opportunity. He ghosted a few kisses over your collarbones, gently sucking marks into the delicate skin, and even leaving a gentle bite when the moment permitted. He worked his way down to your breasts, pulling a hardened nipple into his mouth. The new sensation was overwhelming, making your eyelids flutter closed and your head to fall back in bliss. Being loved by Jake in any way was blissful, and how you were feeling was reflective of the thoughts that had already been swarming your head. Before you could succumb to any more ponderings, he gently bit down on the nipple he had been focusing on, causing you to let out a sharp gasp of shock. You could feel him smiling against you as you did so, forcing an eye-roll from you. He was still an asshole, but it was oddly charming. You couldn’t find it within yourself to be annoyed with him.

Instead, you upped your antics, rolling your hips faster and coming down on him harder. The new pace made it impossible to hold back any noises, the room filled with slurs of moans and the sound of skin on skin. You could tell he was enjoying it, too. The low groans that were muted by his mouth on you only drove you to work harder. Knowing you were pleasing him was orgasm-inducing. His fingertips were searing into your skin, his hold equivalent to that of someone who was taking life-saving measures. You were both worked up, your bodies begging you to succumb to the orgasms you so desperately wanted. Neither of you were willing to end such a fantastic moment so soon, one that had been bound to happen for a length of time. You wanted it to last forever, even if it was impossible. The thought of living in the cloud of bliss he was consuming you with was a comfort, almost as if nothing could ever go wrong as long as he never left.

“Baby,” he breathed, making an attempt to slow your hips but failing miserably. As much as he wanted to hold back, he was too far gone to slow down. “Gotta slow down, m’gonna cum.” He warned. The burning in the pit of your stomach reached a new level, his words only driving you to go faster. You knew it wouldn’t be long before you came undone, too. When you showed no sign of stopping, his head fell back into the couch cushion in a show of defeat. “Y/n.” He let out another warning, but it was too late. With a few more seconds of continuous movement, you had reached your peak. Your fingers grasped at him, holding yourself up as you cried his name. Your climax seemed to break the willpower he possessed. He brought both hands to your hips, muttering a few curses as he came, too.

“Fuck, Jake.” You moaned, trying to ride the high for as long as you could. As your hips came to a stop, you expected a whirlwind of comfort, for him to hold you close and enjoy the bare intimacy of the post-orgasm low. Instead, it was as if a new man were below you. In one swift motion, he shifted and roughly laid you down on the couch without ever withdrawing. As if it were instinct, you wrapped your legs around him, an invitation for whatever he was doing. When you caught sight of his eyes, you realized the soft Jake you’d seen previously had dissipated. The persona was replaced by a feral look, sex-crazed and angry with his loss of control.

“You don’t know how to fucking listen?” He growled, looking over your face for a hint of discomfort. Your features held shock, but no doubt that you wanted to continue. He used a free hand to arrange a throw pillow by your head, ensuring your comfortability despite his annoyance. “I told you, sweetheart, you don’t get to call the shots.” He reminded.

“M’sorry, sir.” You squeaked, slightly embarrassed that you’d pissed him off so badly, but when you looked deep enough into his eyes, you could tell his facade was just as such: an act. He wasn’t willing to walk away from you so soon, orgasm or not. You hadn’t really derailed any plans, because he’d already been certain he’d fuck you for as long as he possibly could.

“Are you?” He pried, supporting his weight on the cushion below you. The new position was delightful; he had never looked more ethereal than when he was on top of you. “Or are you just saying it because you want me to let you cum again?”

“I mean it.” You promised, completely entranced by his beauty. He was having a hard time keeping the tough exterior up, watching you look at him with so much admiration. Behind the act, he was looking at you just the same.

“Prove it, then. Be a good girl for me, okay?” He said. “Can you do that, angel?” You gave a nod, but realized your mistake before he could chastise you for it.

“Yes, I can, sir.” You promised.

“I know you can, baby.” He hummed. “You know your colours?” You watched him for a moment, waiting for him to speak again. “Green means you’re okay, yellow means slow down, red means stop.”

“Okay.” You agreed.

“If you can’t talk, tap me twice.” He said. Your eyebrows furrowed, questions blooming in your mind more by the second. Before you had a chance to ask any, he withdrew and slammed his hips back into you with a force that made your head spin. You let an involuntary yelp out, shocked at his suddenness, but he paid no mind to it. He was already focused on keeping his strength and his pace the same, not worried about anything else unless you were to tell him to stop.

A guttural groan sounded from you, the new angle he was hitting sending waves of pleasure through every nerve in your body. You were certain that there was nobody in the world who could make you feel that good, because you’d never experienced anything like it before. The noises you were making were filthy, absolutely sinful, and he was loving every second of it. Once you had grown used to his thrusts, he used his free hand to reach down between your bodies and find your clit again. He did so with ease, barely even struggling to keep his hand in place as he moved his hips. The added stimulation was enough to push you close to the edge again, and he barely had to work for it. Then again, he barely had to work for any of the orgasms so far. You thought, if there was such a thing as an expert at sex, he would take the crown.

You were already sensitive from the previous climaxes, making his job that much easier. He couldn’t help but let a cocky smirk grace his face, knowing he already had you where he wanted you to be. Your eyes were closed, the pleasure too much to keep them open and focused on anything. Your stomach was burning, head spinning, and lungs aching from the inability to catch your breath. “Not yet, baby.” He warned, knowing you were teetering on the edge.

“I-I can’t,” you stuttered, hoping he wouldn’t make you hold it back.

“You can.” He snapped, not letting up on either of his movements.

“Jake,” you whined, not wanting to disobey the order but knowing you might not be able to control it.

“Shut up.” He hissed, applying a bit more pressure to your clit with his thumb. You clenched your teeth, a violent growl sounding from your chest at your frustration. He couldn’t expect to keep up his pace and not let you cum; the two did not coincide with each other. His request was unreasonable, but you tried your best to comply. You bit down on the inside of your lip, a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the orgasm that was so desperate to be had. It worked for a moment, the pain taking away your focus from his antics. Next was breathing, you focused your breaths to be steady, internally coaxing yourself through the process.

After a few agonizing moments, you were a mess. All of the coping techniques were useless, and you were seconds away from cumming. “Jake, I can’t.” You said again, more serious this time. He knew you weren’t joking; the redness of your cheeks and the glisten of sweat on your forehead was a dead giveaway. When he didn’t respond, you gave up hope that you could push through.

“Cum for me, baby.” He demanded. The four words were the most beautiful ones you’d ever heard. In a mess of moans that resembled more like screams, you came undone once more. Your legs locked around him tighter than before, limiting his movements as you submitted to the pleasure. As you came down, he slowly removed his thumb from you, but didn’t slow his hips. The loss of contact made it easier to deal with the overstimulation from the sensitivity. “Does that feel better?” He crooned, but his tone did not match his movement. His soft voice was an oxymoron to the power behind his hips.

“Mhm,” you managed to give him a sound of agreement, but your brain was only focused on the feeling of him inside you. It felt fantastic, but was beginning to border on pain as continued at the relentless speed. Even so, it was a phenomenal experience, and you never wanted him to stop.

“Such a pretty little whore,” he managed out amidst a moan of his own, clearly getting himself off to the state you were in. Another groan tore through you, the only way you could express your delight at his filthy nickname. Words were unable to form in your brain, any complex thought completely disappeared and was only replaced with his name. His existence was suffocating, but you loved it. It was so wonderful that you almost felt the need to thank him, even if it was slowly killing you. “Give me one more, baby. You can do it.” He attempted to sound demanding, but he was pleading with you. You were surprised he had the stamina to continue so steadily, but you knew he was getting close to another orgasm, too.

“I don’t know,” you cried, genuinely believing you had no more to give him. He took the hand that had been anchored beside you, and slowly trailed his fingers up your body. He focused on your nipple for a moment, gently pinching it and rolling it between his fingers. The feeling caused your or arch your back off the couch, allowing him deeper access to you if it was even possible. He moved on from your breast, but not after palming it and gently squeezing it in his hand. He had been so focused on pleasing you that you couldn’t even chastise him for it; the simple joy he got from the action allowed you to look past the boyish nature.

“You can, sweet girl.” He encouraged. The change from the term sweetheart was new, but very charming. The adoration laced within the words was enough to ignite the fire in you again. His hand drifted upwards still, landing gently on your neck. The touch was welcomed, but he was cautious about your comfort. “Colour.”

“Green.” You assured him.

“Remember what I said?”

“Tap twice.” He gave a nod, happy with your answer. With that, his fingers began to close on your neck, slowly but surely cutting off the blood supply to your head.

“Come on, angel.” He gave the small statement of motivation, hoping it would help you get there. Part of it was because he was desperate to see you cum again, finding it more addictive than any substance. The other part was because he was close, and he refused to give in until he was certain he’d done everything he could to please you. Your head was spinning, not dangerously enough to cause concern, but enough to heighten the insatiable fire coursing through your veins. “I need it, baby. Just one more.” He begged, throwing the dominant tone out the window.

Your heart was pounding against your chest, vision slightly blurry and mind foggy. The only thing keeping you in the realm of reality was his dulcet voice and beautiful words. His face, although shining with sweat and hair sticking to the skin, was one of the most enchanting things you had ever seen. Even if you could, you wouldn’t be able to deny him of the wish. Even as fucked out as you were, there was this small part of your brain that was screaming at you to give him whatever he wanted. It was the devil, maybe, or it was just your heart giving in to the generosity he’d shown you in the last few hours. Whatever it was, you were determined to please him, and it wasn’t hard to do.

He tightened his hold a little more, the small action enough to send you spiralling over the edge again. You let in a choked breath, trying to fill your burning lungs with a hint of air as your legs shook and your eyes squeezed shut. “That’s it,” he groaned. “That’s my girl.” He held his grip until he reached his peak, too, and you both rode the high together. He gradually let go of the pressure he was holding on with, allowing the blood flow to resume and bring you back to earth. Once you had relaxed against him, your mind was able to produce thought again. Your chest slowed, finally suffice with the amount of air in your lungs. You opened your eyes, immediately met with the sight of his smiling face.

You couldn’t help but give one back, finding his joy incredibly infectious. He leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips. You reached up, pulling him closer to you. He slowly let himself down, resting on top of you. You were a mess of sweaty bodies and tangled limbs, but completely content with the position and comforted by the intimacy. He was still resting inside of you, not caring about the mess you’d both made. He just wanted to be close to you, and you did, too. He broke the kiss, instead letting his lips trail over any available body part. You quickly realized that out of every version of Jake you knew, aftercare Jake was your favourite. Every movement was laced with care and love, making sure that every crude action or word was known to be an act. Your body was exhausted, your mind was, too, but you were more than willing to stay awake all night just to be able to continue experiencing the affection.

“Glad I stayed?” He asked, smiling against the skin of your collarbone. You rolled your eyes, but let out a small laugh.

“I think you just need me to want you.” You joked, but he didn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I do.” He agreed, looking up at you through strands of messy hair. “Of course I do.” Your stomach sank, rattled by the blunt honesty. “It’s the best feeling in the whole world.”

No devils advocate for the sinful desire could overpower the guilty conscience that took over. Jake felt the same for you as you did for his brother, and it was gut wrenching to realize that no matter what destination the road was leading to, it would still be painful for someone. As certain as you were for your love for Sam, you couldn’t deny the fact that you were falling for Jake, fast and incomprehensibly hard. In attempt to ward the thoughts away, you pulled him into your chest again. You wrapped him in a hug filled with emotion, an apology hidden deep within the action. You held him there for long enough that it made the revelations disappear.

Wake up in the morning,

see your sunrise loves to go down

[ipatrichor]

dead boy detectives episode six thoughts

HEY. WHAT THE FUCK. normally i talk about things somewhat chronologically but i Cannot skip over this to come back to later. WHY THE FUCK DID EDWIN GET GOT?? motherfucker right when the night nurse was gonna let them stay together at least temporarily to sort it out 😭 girl get him out of there!!!!!

okay i'm taking deep breaths i'm good. it's fine im chill. im so calm and normal right now it's fine. alright time for the rest of the episode.

monty... i'm a little torn bc him getting stabbed and dismembered to be re-crowed by esther is fucked, but also (like i was afraid of!) he was an asshole about edwin not returning his feelings. so... oh well. still a shame and i feel a little bad for him, but significantly less than i would have otherwise. he's not even dead lol, he's just a bird again

the guy in the fish. kashi maybe?? i do not remember his name but he's so fun i love his vibe. i'd invite him to a party tbh, he seems like the kind of guy who's just pleasant to be around bc he's kind and just really does not stress. i love his interactions with the night nurse, he's so calm and a good contrast to her franticness 👍

SPEAKING OF THE NIGHT NURSE. i really like that she hesitated and ultimately decided not to separate them instead of digging in her heels and refusing to believe the system could make a mistake. it's the perfect culmination for her character, and tracks so well with what she believes- not in the system itself exactly, but that it exists for a reason. that the most important thing is to keep everything in order, and if the system is making mistakes that is not order!! especially with her interaction with the cool fish man getting her to pause and take a breath, i'm really happy with how her character is developing and being written she's so good

oh also!! I WAS FUCKING RIGHT IT FEELS SO GOOD HOLY SHIT. I WAS CORRECT!!! EDWIN REALLY IS IN LOVE WITH CHARLES!!!! girl that was foreshadowed and developed so well they mean So much to me!!!!! aaaahahahahaha i do not have words for how delighted this makes me but!!! know that it is so!!!!!

also wait i just realized this is so funny. edwin attempts to confess his gay love and almost immediately gets sent to hell. girl what is this supernatural?

anyway. i noticed that the bracelet broke, so hopefully when the cat king comes back they'll be able to interact on more even footing. (assuming. i mean. assuming edwin doesn't stay in hell 😭 i really hope they get him out... there are two episodes left so? exciting season finale rescue please? pretty please for me??)

speaking of which. did anyone else think it was hot when edwin, upon being faced with the cat king attempting to stop him from warning charles and crystal, went off on him and told him that the binding spell is all he is? bc that was hot! idk i just really enjoyed edwin snapping back at the cat king, who up til now has essentially held all the power in their interactions. it was immensely satisfying, bc yeah! if you were not literally magically holding him prisoner you would be nothing to him bitch!!! you need to cast a binding spell on a guy to get him to even notice you exist!!!

sorry haha i simply do not like the cat king. i enjoy his vibe and the cunt he gives off but he has fully and completely lost the battle for my respect with how he treats edwin, someone he's interested in who has rejected him. lol get disregarded idiot try a romance tactic other than weird power imbalances and coercion next time

is it just me or do these posts keep getting longer?? there is So Much this episode to talk about!! we got walrus guy backstory (fascinating!), crystal's demon ex putting her down and getting whacked with a magic cricket bat (satisfying! eat shit daniel), mushroom forest elemental extradimensional creature (scary as hell? but also it was hilarious crystal went 'hey u don't have to eat my friends u can just not' and the mushroom was like 'oh shit really? damn my bad bye' and that fucking Worked that's so funny i love it)

crystal... what do i say about crystal i love her!!!! holy shit. her losing her powers to bar her ex from her head, being afraid she's useless without them, and then reclaiming them by looking deeper within her and reconnecting with her heritage.... ough that's so good!!! i love that so much, and i love love love how far her and edwin's friendship has come. "i have come to value you" he's saying you're friends!! you're friends and he cares about you because you're friends, not because you have cool and helpful powers. motherfucker im gonna cry

and niko & jenny!! god that scene was so real. jenny's obviously bad with emotions, but it was really sweet of her to reassure niko as best she can. and yeah the librarian being murderous wasn't niko's fault, but also the situation only happened because niko went against jenny's express wishes to find her secret admirer and set up a date. so it's reasonable for jenny to not be ready to forgive her for that yet, bc that shit was absolutely traumatizing as hell and niko still played a part even if it wasn't fully her fault. but still, jenny puts that aside long enough to talk things out with niko, and i love both of them so much 😭

i thought i got this out at the start but NO. FREE MY BOY EDWIN HE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!! let him out!!!!!!! give him back and i want him and charles to hug again!!!! and also more interactions with him and niko their friendship is very sweet!!!!! give him back to me please im devastated 😭😭😭

[doodle17]

Psychonauts 3 minor antagonist >:)

D'Artagnan Astubelief! The "mystery" person who's been framing Raz! Or at least one of the people behind it...

Im still trying to figure out was his motivation could be... I was thinking maybe his Aunt who I might make (at least One of) the main antagonist could be influencing him, but I still need a motivation. I'd love to hear any ideas!

I also updated his lore! Like- a lot! I'll put it under a read more >:)

*None of this official, btw. all of this based purely off my headcanons*

D'Art used to be born Psychic, but I changed it to where he was actually born NON-psychic, but becomes psychic due to some.... Stuff

SO D'Arts mom, Natasha, got super sick while she was pregnant with D'arts little sister, Ania. Unfortunately, after Ania was born, Natasha was so weak she couldn't fight her illness and she passed a few days later.

D'Art's dad, Ronan, was so overcome with grief over his wife, that it had a huge impact on D'art and his family.

Fast forward about 5-ish years, right as Ronan is finally starting to recover from the loss if his wife, D'art gets the same sickness. And similarly to his mother, he dies. Ronan is once again absolutely crushed by the death of his youngest son. At this point, he can't take the loss of another loved one anymore, and on one rainy night goes to see his aunt.

Dr. Vladlena Astubelief is studies in the paranormal. Including necromancy and re-animation. But don't let the "Dr." In her name fool you, a lot of her experiments are very cruel and botched. Unfortunately, Ronan is also very desperate.

He begs for her to help bring D'art back. She's only ever experienced on dead animals, so she was very delighted to be given the chance to experiment on an actual person. She took D'Art's body and sent Ronan back to the rest of his family, saying if all goes well she'll return D'art herself.

Fast forward 2 botched surgeries/dissections, and replacing bits of his non-psychic brain with psychic bits, which were totally not stolen, and Ronan gets a call, saying D'Artagnan will be dropped off, alive and well.

D'Art is returned back to his family, so things are all fun and good now! Right?... Well...

Yes, D'Art is back, but his personality and behavior is very different. He used to be very energetic and bright. Playing with his siblings and helping out with chores best he can, always willing to lend a hand. After he came back, he became distant and cynical. Appearance wise, he also looked a lot more pale, his hair even started to turn white, when it was originally jet black like his dad's

It turned white thanks to his Aunts experiments, and also the fact that he's basically half alive

[ambrosialdesire]

Idk what type of drugs you put into your yandere Reiner series but it has been on my mind 24/7/365 I need tiny crumbs 🤲 anything, I need anything 😞

AAAAA TYYY i've seen you all the time in my activity and i wanna thank you so much for your constant support! <3

you want more cacoëthes reiner so here’s some more cacoëthes reiner crumbs!!! (also bc i want to write something else rn so i can keep writing the thing i was supposed to post a few weeks ago LOL) and on my kinktober list, there was an epilogue that i was supposed to write (AND I WILL I STG IM TRYING YALL BUT IM JUST BEING BOMBARDED WITH THIS FAST AF PACED PROGRAM 😭) and that was supposed to be a peek inside their relationship during her the first couple months into her pregnancy.

anyways, both the reader (or you lol) and reiner could not keep each other's hands off each other after that night, even though you swear on your entire family's dead souls that you hated him. his big fat cock was too irresistible to continue abstaining from and it's reiner, bro's a little too insatiable for only one round. he ain’t complaining though and he loves to fuck out those endearing i love you’s out of you, so two wins for him ig 😭

and of course, from a previous ask from an anon, reader does indeed get pregnant from the constant action lmfao

but ambro, couldn't the reader have done something to get rid of the child? yeah she/you could've, if not for the fact that you had began to develop feelings towards him (although its mostly bc of the amount of trauma you went through, extreme stockholm syndrome, and heavy coping you had to do in the aotverse, reiner’s the only stable thing in your life so you’re going to cling onto the closest thing of security you have, which is your captor unfortunately 💀) and you're kinda not opposed to it anymore. cacoëthes reader had always wanted to have a family but never thought it could be possible since giving life to a child in a world full of titans wasn't really ideal for starting one. lucky for you, you now live in a world where there's no titans (kinda)!

you were completely alone when you were going through the beginning symptoms of pregnancy, unaware of why you kept vomiting so often or why you had to go to the bathroom even more than before or why you were so fatigued after barely doing anything. when you went to the doctor, that’s when you finally found out that you were already 2 months pregnant. getting out of the office, you kinda snapped out of the housewife-sona you’ve developed in order to cope and become extremely aware of what was happening to you. you cried a lot, absolutely terrified that this was actually happening to you. you barely had your mom most of your life so you didn't know what you were going to do next, all you sorta knew what to do was to make sure that both you and the baby were going to be healthy for the rest of pregnancy.

reiner didn't know about it since he had to leave to go fight some more after a two month absence of him "taking care" of you and your injuries. he sorta did know that he had already gotten you pregnant from all those nights and afternoons fucking on every single surface of the home nonstop, but you never know. so when he came back about a month-ish later, his jaw dropped to the floor when you turned around with a slight bump in your stomach (around this time, you’re like maybe 3-4.5 months pregnant now).

he’s absolutely over the moon but you start crying in front of him, admitting that you’re so scared of the unknown future and what if he actually leaves for good (the abandonment issues are at an all time high bc of hormones and bc he did tell you that he’s going to eventually die in a couple of years 💀). reiner merely hushes you and tells you that you'll be a great mom and he'll be there for you for as long as he lives. it doesn't really make you feel better but the reassuring look in his eyes makes you feel some sort of dull comfort, it's better than nothing ig lol

reiner asks to be sent less often to the wars just so he won't miss the birth of his child or let you get injured again since you're alone most of the time. they grant this for him but they did dock his pay bc of it and it's not that bad of a cut, just more budgeting is going to be more involved in y'alls lives.

yea this is pretty mid snippet-wise sorry 😭

the epilogue i'm going to write covers even more in-depth with their relationship so stayed tuned for that eventually! i might post it on the year anniversary of cacoëthes pt 1 but we'll see lol

[stardewvalleyhc]

Elliot‘s home (part 1)

(Im still editing it but I decided to go ahead and post it.)

Jas deserved better. Marnie deserved better and I couldn’t be. I tried again and again and everytime I’d wake up in a cold sweat on the floor surrounded by beer cans. The bitter taste lingering in my mouth the rest of the day as if it was a reminder of how I failed them. I dreaded going to work, Joja mart sucked but it was money. Though everyday I thought about quitting without fail. The amount of times I cried in that break room hell if I could even keep count of that. That’s why I spent my afternoons in the saloon but so did he. Little Mr Perfect, perfect long ginger hair, perfect sun kissed skin with little brown freckles. He had good posture, good teeth, he wore nice clothes. Expensive looking clothes. It boiled my blood to be in the same room as him. The worst was when he’d sit down next to me. He’d notice I was in a bad mood and his majesty would grace me with his presence. He looked at me with pity I assume— I’m the village drunk so why wouldn’t he?

“I’m not a charity case.” I mumbled under my breath.

I had enough to deal with with my dead end job I didn’t need this guy trying to cheer me up. I pushed his arm away as he tried to do a little awkward side hug. “I don’t even know you” That wasn’t technically a lie as he had only been there for a few months. Though the face he made made me wince a bit.

“Oh…right…sorry. Uhm…well do you like to read?” Elliot questioned tilting his head slightly.

“Not really.” I said threw my teeth. This guy just didn’t quit did he?

“Well if you ever get into reading-“ I stopped him right there.

“I’m NOT getting into reading.”

“…I’m sorry am I bothering you?”

“Yes! You think your so much better then me don’t you?!”

“What?! No! I don’t-“

“Your not helping me! I don’t need you to act like some kind of prince rescuing me from myself Just leave me alone!”

“….oh…I’m sorry.” Elliot walked away. I could feel cold glances from the other people at the bar. I decided to go home.

I walked- stumbled back to my house. Grumbling all the way there, I stared at the ground as I attempted to steady my balance. Maybe now people would leave me alone. I got home, Marnie nearly scared me half to death just standing there before she yelled at me. I knew she hated yelling, she was a nice lady but she knew how to put her foot down.

“I don’t like you staying out so late- look at you you can barely stand.” Marnie crossed her arms as she watched my struggle to take my shoes off. “Jas wanted to collect eggs with you today. I finally had to do it with her. Your missing her childhood.”

“I see her everyday Marnie!”

“You always complain about never having money it’s because your lining Gus’s pockets.”

“Hey! Gus is a good guy! Leave him out of this!”

“Jas wants you here…she needs you here…she hates when you come home drunk.”

“I’m sorry.”

“…I only say this because I’m worried about you.” Marnie rubbed my back. She use to do that all the time. I had only noticed then how long it had been.

After that we go to our rooms and go to bed. I looked up at the ceiling, my thoughts on my actions throughout the day even though my clarity is a bit shot from the booze I knew I was a bit harsh with Elliot but at the same time I got angry just thinking about him again. That smooth sounding voice was a nightmare and my brain played his words over and over again. I decided I didn’t have to be friends with him but I at least should apologize. So I rolled over on my side and went to sleep.

The next day I thought my brain would burst out of my skull. I stumbled to the bathroom and washed my mouth . I realized I didn’t even change my clothes that night so my usual clothes smelt like sweat and beer. Not that I was going to do anything about it except just wear it again. Then I took a shower, hair care routine consisted of washing it then drying it. That’s it. ‘I bet Elliot puts some fancy pants stuff in his hair. I bet he spends an hour on his hair. I bet-‘ I shook my head. The more I thought about Elliot that way the more I’d try to shrug off the apology to him. I left the bathroom and redressed before starting to head out. I normally tried to rush out as I’m not really a breakfast person but Marnie always tries to catch me and force me to eat. She gave me a piece of toast so I grabbed it and walked to work nibbling on it as I went. Work was…work. Every day seemed harder then the next, i look for every opportunity to take stuff from the back that I can. Especially pepper poppers. After being lectured by my boss about having a “customer ready smile” my shift ended and I was free. I was heading to the saloon again straight from work and who do I see. Of course I’d run into Elliot who looked like a kicked dog when we made eye contact. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but quickly closed it. He was usually so cocky but he seemed so awkward. Had what I said really gotten to him? Well now I felt even worse about it. If him being pompous was annoying then seeing him like this was a hundred times worse. His fluffy hair almost seemed deflated along with his ego. Maybe that’s where he stored it. Either way if he wasn’t really upset with me he was a damn good actor which I wasn’t ruling out as a possibility.

“Look man…maybe I was a bit harsh before.” I said trying to not sound sarcastic which was surprisingly hard to do. “I didn’t completely mean it…”

Elliot lightened up a bit. “Oh! Not a problem!” Ugh…seriously? Your making it that easy? Who just excepts an apology like that?! Elliot must’ve lived in one of his mythical book worlds because that’s not how that would normally play out.

“Okay cool.” I shrugged heading into the bar and he follows after me. I ordered a beer and Elliot…sat down right. Next. To. Me. Just because I apologized doesn’t mean I wanted to be this guys friend. I don’t mind hearing his flowery rants from across the bar.

[interlacrimas]

Love in your blade - chapter 1 the new job

Once you are born a disgrace, you always will be a disgrace. That always been very clear to me. Not even the biggests of the efforts could make me ever be worthy, not even magic itself did…still, I need something for my unneeded survival… even if I am not valuable enough for the mere act of being alive, it is in my unholy nature to beg to live.

I've woken up early, and looked at the ceiling, that was almost falling, falling together with my hope, i've stared at it silently, for at least 10 minutes straight

“Why am I even alive…Is just to remind me of how useless I am? Or do I actually am deserving of anything…” Until i reminded myself, that spending so much time immerse in my own thoughts is a privilege i will never have, I quickly dress up, on my New uniform for my new job, it is way fancier then my other clothes, I was terrified of having to pay for these, i couldn't afford it, even if I save money for 2 years straight, i was relieved at receiving not only the clothes, but free food as well, it's rare for the royalty to show any kindness

I went walking towards the almighty castle, leaving the house 30 minutes before my shift, the long road didn't gave me the luck of eating breakfast before going to work.

Until I was there…“Wow…this is…stunning…! I've never seen something as shiny as that…”

“Could you stop admiring the castle and come to work?” Someone tall yell at me, probably my superior, i just nodded and enter, following them, my job was cleaning that giant building…daily…I can already feel the back pain, but i'm not in the place to wine about it

The hours went quickly as i sweep the place and its most varied corners, making sure each place is clean, i was just hoping i wouldn't get fired in my first day, no one gave me instructions about the place, i've found myself lost many times, why did it need to be so big…is it to make sure we are aware of how inferior we are to them?

It was almost night, and i was on the last floor…finally, the place sure was fancy, the paintings were marvelous, just like if each detail had been discussed and had hard thought about its meaning when suddenly i just felt myself falling down to the stairs, my eyes widen as i felt no control to my body, i already accepted defeat, or i would have a severe injury, or i would broke something i couldn't pay even if i sell my lungs, or, in the best hypothesis, I would die and finally rest for a bit…until i felt my hand being touched, and i wasn't falling anymore

The person holding my sweaty and dirty hands were using fancy clothings, and a crown, my eyes widen at knowing it was the king himself…i was just hoping that if he was going to kill me, that he left me fall, and not take my head out…the king stared at me for a couple of seconds till he says:

“Your eyes are pretty unique, you know?”

I was totally surprised at that comment…that surely wasn't what i expected

“Are they contact lens?”

I've created courage to answer the fancy looking man

“No…its a long story, to summarize…magic”

the man quickly push me back to the ground, as we get closer i take one step back and look at him, sweating a little

“I don't see how someone like you could ever get involved with magic, thought…”

“It didn't make much result with it …your majesty? Im sorry but i'm not aware if you're…like…the king or something?”

“I am, i thought it was Basic knowledge to a citizen of this kingdom"

“When you have almost anything to survive, your priority has nothing to do with the king and his fancy life…”

Crap, I said this out loud…! My head is gone for good…He stared at me and smirked at himself;

“You're very brave to say that to me, peasant.”

Maybe i was being to kind to myself, not only my head is gone…i can already be seen as dead…its the end

“I appreciate that, no one ever talked like that to me, brave idiot”

“Hm…you're welcome? I guess…” i said relieved, at least i will keep my head in place for a little longer 

“And about your situation, i will take care of it, you can spend your days here while you work here, you don't need to pay for nothing, is this already a great help?”

My eyes shined, my heart beating faster, as i open my mouth in disbelief, my eyes widen, as i stare at the king himself, offering a room for me to stay, why…? Did I hit the jackpot or something? I couldn't allow myself to question it, its too good to be true…but im fine with beautiful lies, i've seen hope for the first time, i could only say one thing for him, show him how much grateful I was.

"Thank you…thank you so much, your majesty!”

"don't thank me, by the way, i'm assuming you don't know my name, if you had a hard time figuring my position in the kingdom”

“yeah…i really don't know” i said with a shy smile, embarassed

“Fuyuhiko kuzuryuu, and you, who are you, mister commoner?”

“Hajime…hajime hinata.”

“See you again soon, hajime hinata” He left quickly, down to the stairs, and reminded myself i had work to do, i've cleaned the last floor, with a new income about the situation

Maybe everything will be fine after all…

[espynsleep]

C H A N G E - dallas winston x reader

Authors note: I've been practicing my writing to get into a groove where the writing actually looks good to me. Please let me know if you have any constructive comments, enjoy!

Contains: angst, reader is Johnny's sister. This takes place when johnny and dally are gonna die

Fanfic starts here

It's been a day since dallas came back with johnny and ponyboy, I feel so glad they are back, but johnny is really hurt, and after finding out he and dallas are in the hospital I had to go and see them. So me, two-bit, and ponyboy went to see them at the hospital.

As we were going to the hospital, I was pondering on what to say to dallas, as I had feelings for him, but I've never said anything because he is always off and on with Sylvia. Johnny is my #1 supporter, so he suggested I tell dallas how I felt so, I was working up the courage to tell him how I felt.

When we got there, two-bit gave dally and mickey Mouse Plushie. As dallas and I made eye contact, he smiled a little as he said to me in his new York accent, "Hey y/n, glad to see you doll" I smiled at him and said back "hey dal how you feeling?" Ponyboy also questioned him about his state, in which Dallas says his fine. As I was gonna ask Pony and two to leave the room so I could confess to him and get it over with, dallas asks a dreaded question.

"How's Johnny doin' man?" We freeze, not really knowing if we should tell him the truth that johnnys state is real bad as he passed out while talking to the nurse finally after what felt like forever two-bit spoke up "uh well hes not looking to good, he passed out just as we left" two-bit said that and he looked really sad and as I looked to dallas he looked, well he looked pissed then he asked two-bit for his blade, reluctantly two-bit gave it to him. Dallas then went on a tiny rant about we have to beat the socs tonight, which we did. And then me, ponyboy and two-bit left.

Time skip because I feel we all know what happens with the rumble lol

After the rumble, i was at the Curtis house helping the rest of the gang clean up, we didn't know where dallas or ponyboy were but we knew they'd come here eventually. Then I hear the door open. I turn and see ponyboy still looking bloody and dirty from the rumble. Darry asks ponyboy where he's been, and ponyboy says the most gut wrecking words I could ever here "johnnys Dead and dallas have gone mad. He couldn't take it. I think he's gonna blow. " I already knew Johnny was dead as dallas called before and told us, and im still so sad, so I when I heard dallas had gone mad, I knew he would get himself in crazy trouble, but if only I knew it'd be so much more then crazy.

When we got the call from dallas telling us the cops were following him, we ran to go meet him, but when we got there, we saw him getting shot and that was when the world stopped spinning I had realized I just lost my brother and my crush all in the same night and I never told dallas winston how I felt but maybe this is what he wanted, to die but to this day I see him everywhere like he's not dead. That night is engraved in my brain that nights the night my life the night everything changed.

[enigmatist17]

The world came back in bits, flashes of color breaking through the white haze that had overwhelmed his senses when the bloody chip in his head fired off. He can't really remember what set it off in the first place, but can feel pain blossoming from several points all over his body, so it was clear he'd been attacked.

Oh, wait.

A bar, some men harassing a woman, and Spike stepping in with good intentions. He'd failed to notice two other men until they'd attacked, the chip preventing the vampire from fighting back or defending himself as he was beaten into submission. At least the bint who'd caused it all got away, so there was at least one mark in the white hat column for him.

The alley he had been in felt kind of soft under his shattered bones, and it took a long minute for the vampire to realize he was inside somewhere and on a bed. Oh, Spike doesn't remember getting up and going somewhere, but he'll take what little he can get these days, and gladly surrenders to oblivion.

He wakes once again to find himself feeding, the blood soothing the hunger he'd had constantly ever since the Initiative had used him for a sodding lab rat. While it's not the blood of a sire, something Spike hadn't tasted in several lifetimes, whoever was taking the time to feed Spike was clearly part of the Aurelian line and a fair bit older than himself. He lets out a soft snarl when he's pulled away from the source of the blood, annoyed when he can hear a chuckle somewhere to his left.

"You'll have more soon, don't worry."

What the?

Spike doesn't have the energy to open his eyes or speak, drifting back into sleep to the feeling of bone and tissue knitting back together. The next time he wakes, he's able to open his eyes and sit up, but he growls at the memory of being bested by bloody humans as he looks around the room he is in, sitting up slowly as he tests his limbs.

"Finally, he wakes."

"Penn?" The elder gave a short nod from his seat across the room, closing the book he'd been reading and setting it on the table beside him. "'Eard you were dead."

"Nearly died, survived." Penn shrugged, getting to his feet with a slight wobble. "Luckily for you, I am not, Angelus could not come."

"The poof wanted to come 'ere?" Spike was pleased to find his legs moved without pain, slinging them over the edge of the bed to face Penn proper.

"Yes, we found some...information on this Initiative group that is operating in town, but one of his pe-humans had a vision." The elder looked annoyed for a moment but shrugged it off. "Color me shocked to find you a bloody pulp in some alley, you don't seem the type to fall to humans." Spike cursed internally as he and Penn held each other's gaze, the other more curious than eager to find some sort of weakness Spike may or may not have.

"You'll want the Watcher, Slayer is never far from 'im." Spike finally scoffed, able to stand with minimum pain, Penn rising with him.

"Not coming with?" Those eyes narrowed as Spike growled.

"No, I'm not. He's not far from here, 'ave fun Penn." With that he swept out of the rather nice hotel room and into the night, heading for his crypt for some decent rest away from the prying eyes of family. He thanks his past self for ensuring proper sleeping quarters below the crypt he'd chosen, too exhausted to even kick off his shoes and he sinks onto his bed and back into sleep. It spared him from thinking about how humiliating it had been for Penn, of all people, to find him, and he knew that the Slayer and the others would most likely let slip his "condition" out of pure spite, leading to even more mockery. Maybe he'll just dust in his sleep; the Slayer of Slayers is gone as a footnote in demon history because of some bloody scientists.

Man his unlife just sucked, why the hells had he come back to Sunnydale?!

It's a pleasant surprise when he slowly starts to awaken to someone running a gentle hand through his hair, and Spike wonders if he's dreaming. Dru had been gentle in her rare lucid moments, whispering his poetry with a tender voice as she would hold him, both soaking up these peaceful moments before Miss Edith would inevitably return. Perhaps his brain was giving him a small mercy, so Spike decided to play along, chest rumbling with a purr as the hand continued its gentle pace.

Should we wake him?

No, he'll be asleep again soon, he's still weakened.

I still wish to hunt them sire, the ones who hurt him.

I know, but right now, my childer needs us.

Will we take him with us to L.A.?

If he wishes.

Spike isn't surprised to find the hand touching him is real, but is familiar with hiding his surprise to find that Angel is the one to touch him. He was sure Angel would have killed him; the hot pokers and torture were more than justification enough for his death, right? Instead, he's just...touching him, and speaking with Penn, who almost sounded like he gave a shite about Spike's health. Spike isn't sure what to make of this, so he just focuses on the gentle touch, lying to himself that it was just like old times until his brain decides to fall back asleep.

He can worry about everything later.

[neteluvr-library]

okay im back for my weekly read through of cardigan!! idk why i choose to do this at 11 pm at night but that's when im most unhinged so its kinda funny letting my unfiltered thoughts through??? but don't worry im only doing two chapters today bc i really want to do the last three chapters together!! NOW THAT WILL BE INTENSE. i love DBTAC sm. It's literally one of my favorite taylor songs ever bc of u--i slept on lover before but its one of my favorites now. I never really paid to the lyrics because simply because I didn't know this song when you first posted, but now I am so appreciative of the lyrics because it flows so perfectly with the story. so I'm very excited to read this chapter ):

He couldn’t say no to you, he realises. He would follow you anywhere in this world, do anything you asked of him, regardless how stupid or reckless or crazy it was. He would always follow you, for the rest of time, and he was happy about it. 

No because Neteyam is such a lover boy. everything in his DNA is fierce and i think that's very applicable to the way he loves. I don't think he could do anything half-assed which is why I love the way he loves atan ):

Things happen in life sometimes, and it makes you lose your ability to react. There was no reaction, definitely no overreaction.

I literally thought she was going to die I was like no way this just happened how fucking unfortunate 😃 BBYGIRL IS FINALLY LIVING HER LIFE NOW THIS???? atan will not get a break for the next year or so for her life-

You hoped that maybe you tried hard enough, the last 6 hours can just be erased from your life, from world.

NO BC I KNOW ATAN FELT SO NUMB IN THIS MOMENT 😭 but also i was and still am living for the angst please its just too good

First step, respiratory fluids. You remove a sterile cotton swab and swab your pharynx as thoroughly as possible and place it in a tube. That’s easy enough.

This entire chapter was anxiety-inducing like it literally felt like something out of the movie contagion or any other pandemic movies (very weird considering we lived throughout a pandemic) but the whole sequence of atan (PLEASE I JUST TYPED ATAN AND IT GOT CORRECTED TO SATAN LMFAO) studying her samples in the lab adds to the anxiety and was a genius move on your part. it was easy to imagine in my head because you were so descriptive but also it's shows a lot about atan's character and how strong she is (despite the fact she doesn't believe). like most people would freak out, rightfully so, but she just goes straight into action to figure out what is going on. (LOL soon you'll get better just started playing now).

...like your mum was saying it had to be done back on Earth about a century ago

one thing that blows my mind is that avatar literally takes place only 150 years after the year 2000 which is the year i was born in so it's like not even that far off (is that a covid reference lol) from our current timeline. like yeah I'll be dead but my grandkids and even great grandkids will be alive in 2100) i really hope we don't end up like them lmfaoooo..

THE FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF STAGE I: DENIAL

I LITERALLY LOVED THIS SO MUCHHHHH ITS LIKE A MOVIE SEQUENCE!!!! going through the different stages of grief always hits in literature, but i think you captured it so well in a way that was entertaining to read, but also cathartic? (but I'll elaborate more on that in seven)

With those thoughts still floating in your mind and a Xanax on your tongue, you made your way to the comfortable bed and crashed without a dream in sight. 

NOT THE XANAX 😭 POOR ATAN!!!!! she is going through it rn.

He gave you the quickest look known to man then quickly busied himself with literally anything else. “No reason, just focused on the task at hand.”

EASTER EGG!!!!! and i'm literally just catching this now 😭 obviously i know what its implying but im kinda disappointed i didn't notice until now? i need to be a more careful reader bc sometimes i skip over details like this that set the stage for something else. honestly i think i just focused on the bolded words instead of everything but like DESCRIBING BODY LANGAUGE AND ACTIONS IS JUST AS IMPORTANT FOR CONTEXTS AHHH i will do better. but also, you're a mastermind because you already had this planned 😒

Neteyam shifted uncomfortably in front of you and looked… nervous, you realised. What the hell was going on with everyone?

LITERALLY LOOKING BACK I DIDNT KNOW WHAT WAS GONNA HAPPEN BUT I STILL DIDNT EXPECT WHAT YOU DID i literally thought everyone was being sus for no reason

...if he too was struggling to catch his breath at the torture of knowing he can’t have you, claim you, right now, right in this second, right here.

I'm sure he was...lol

...like they were urging you to come closer so they can spill their long-forgotten dreams to you

so dreamy ): i love the idea of plants being like friends you can spill your secrets to and they have open ears that don't judge you

You didn’t pass judgement, or make him feel bad for sharing his feelings, and he felt like he could tell you all the hardest truths his heart has always craved to speak out loud.

GOD so most of the times i can't relate to romance stories because i have only had one failed relationship and honestly i haven't been truly in love, but i do know what its like to have a soulmate like that (one of my best friends) so it warms my heart to know neteyam has someone like that and by relating it to my experience i think it really clarified just how strong their bond is and made me realize that damn you only get that type of love (whether platonic or romantic) once in your life so you should hold it tight when you do find it

...but he also knew that being selfish is not a trait that came naturally to you. You have always respected the deep bond Neteyam had to his family and his people and you always used to tell him how proud of him you were for how strong he was, for the lengths he was willing to go to to protect and nurture those bonds. 

Reading this little portion made me think about how different Atan, Vol, and Vi are (they have a lot of similarities tho). They're all fierce and multi faceted characters but I specifically thought about Atan and Vol because you wrote that Vol was more selfish in nature at the beginning of Cruel Summer and then compare her to Atan, who is selfless from the beginning. I've always appreciated your female characters, and i know each one has bits and pieces of you, but I just love how you're able to write so many different female characters without them being too "Mary Sue" or having the same personality. it's great that each one of Atan, Vol, and Vi are easily distinguishable from each other.

The scraps would have been enough, and now even those were brutally taken from you, like everything else in this life. 

There is definitely a different type of pain that comes from grieving something that is alive and in front of you. it must make atan feel so helpless and lost ):

“Did you tell her?” 

I JUST REMEMBERED WHAT I ORIGINALLY THOUGHT!!! GIRL BECAUSE THIS ENTIRE TIME I THOUGHT NETEYAM WAS GOING TO CONFESS HIS LOVE FOR ATAN AND THATS WHY EVERYBODY WAS SO SECRETIVE LMFAOOO IT JUST MADE SO MUCH SENSE IN MY HEAD like yeah neteyam loves atan and wants to say sorry and confess and that's why everybody is so jumpy because he wants them to keep it a secret so atan doesn't fight out but neteyam was too stubborn to actually do it ... silly me. but next time i won't be so silly and will be on guard for any sus actions...

You wanted to be in this body just a little while longer, because, in this body, it was easy to forget the realities of your actual life.

Me except instead of being in an Avatar body, its reading Avatar fanfics because I want to avoid any responsibilities I have (lowkey supposed to be writing my personal statement but i chose to do this instead AHAHAH)

...discover themselves, make decisions and choices that would lead to a happy, fulfilled life, rather than a proud and accomplished one.

And to that I question: what draws the distinction between the two? i think that would be an interesting conversation lol

Despite never seeing anything that he could deem suspicious, the images of his baby brother taking for himself what was his, what should be his, haunted him and made him sick to his stomach. 

So claim your woman . So, how i pointed how the difference between your female characters, I also want to point out the difference between your Neteyams. Mainly this Neteyam and Cruel Summer Neteyam. Sure, they were both selfess and put their obligations first but it's interesting how they diverge and are almost like opposites? but i love how Cardigan Neteyam goes against his obligation while Cruel Summer Neteyam ultimately succumbs to it. like okay, the circumstances are different but its interesting because it shows how you can characterize Neteyam in different ways (even MiM Neteyam is completely different). this fandom was literally given CRUMBS but they have managed to keep him alive through the 8734987349 different variations and characterizations of him and i love it. James cameron slept on neteyam. I feel like he give us was like a blank canvas almost. Like neteyam has defining traits, but you can take the defining traits and completely change who is with each version of him. okay that got a little long whoops....ALSO PLS I NEED YOU TO DO A NETEYAM POLL of which neteyam is their favorite 😭😤

“There are perks that come with being an Omatikaya, you know? You can make your bow out of the wood of the Home Tree… and you can choose a mate.” 

Classic love triangle moment lol...CUE THE DRAMA

GEEZE THIS TOOK ME AN HOUR. i feel like im picking up on so much insight that i didn't before so i actually really love rereading. though i try my best to annotate anything my mutuals post IT TAKES UP SO MUCH TIMEEEEE i just love writing every little thought

lllicit Affairs | Chapter VI: Death by a Thousand Cuts

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: You and Neteyam both have a dark secret that would change everything between you - and neither of you are willing to share.

Warnings: angst, some fluff, Lo'ak x reader, jealous!Neteyam, both main characters thirsting for each other, mentions of lab work, disease, blood, cursing.

Word Count: 7,2k words

A/N: Chapter 6 is the chapter that sets EVERYTHING in motion for what's to come. There is a LOT to come, a lot of drama and angst, maybe some smut (? 😉) and this chapter is meant as a stepping stone to the beginning of the end. Also, realised I forgot to ever mention, that if the dialogue is ever italicised, that usually means the conversation is in Na'vi, I don't know how I have never made it clearer, but here we are.

Thank you so much for everyone who's been reading and asking to be tagged, I never expected this to gain any traction and I am so grateful for people enjoying it x

My heart, my hips, my body, my love Trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch Gave you too much but it wasn't enough But I'll be all right, it's just a thousand cuts

One second. 

“Just one second, Neteyammm!”, you whined, as he was trying to remove the blanket from your currently very comfortable and very warm body. 

“It’s late, come on! Early bird catches the worm, isn’t that what you people say?”

“Nobody says that, I don’t know who told you this lie.” 

“It was you!!” he says, and he’s laughing at your whinging while trying to remove the blanket. He’s not trying that hard, considering he would make an easy job out of the task if he used a tenth of his actual force, but he couldn’t bear the thought of bringing you any unnecessary distress. You had enough of that in your life, and he wanted to be a source of comfort for you, a shelter in the storm. 

You scooted on one side of the bed close to the edge, and left a big gap which you brought to his attention by patting it aggressively. 

“Press the button on the audio player and lay with me, please? I don’t feel like going out today.”

He couldn’t say no to you, he realises. He would follow you anywhere in this world, do anything you asked of him, regardless how stupid or reckless or crazy it was. He would always follow you, for the rest of time, and he was happy about it. 

A song he liked came on, one that he’s heard you play before and there was no doubt in his mind that he liked it better when you sang it. He circled the bed and lay in it, next to you, in the dark. 

“Thank you, light of my life.” You attached yourself to him, arms sprawled across his bare chest and legs carelessly placed on top of abdomen and hips, and sighed contently. He could feel your warm breaths on his neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He turned his head to you and placed a small kiss on top of your head and listened to the soft tune filling up the room. 

“Oh, goddamn, my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Taking mine, but it's been promised to another

Oh, I can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone, your ivy grows and now I'm covered in you”

“You’re annoying.”

“I know I am, but you love me anyway.”

I do, Neteyam thought. I really do…

Things happen in life sometimes, and it makes you lose your ability to react. There was no reaction, definitely no overreaction. You stared at the vial of blood that shattered all across the floor, all across you and your mind was blank. Almost robotically, you made your way to one of the benches and got some paper rolls and the IMS laying next to it. You carefully cleaned all of it, and spit whatever made its way to your mouth to the floor to be removed. When you were sure everything was gone, you went to the sink and removed your goggles and gloves, and scrubbed yourself clean. You felt yourself moving, picking up a bucket of water with some floor cleaner, felt yourself adding disinfectant to it and moping thoroughly, but it was like an out-of-body experience. Like you were merely a puppet executing orders from above. Cleaning everything took about an hour, after which you made your way back to your room slowly, deliberately. 

You didn’t sleep. You spent the whole night looking over everything you and the rest of the scientists have ever found out about this virus. You didn’t know its way of transmission. Maybe you had nothing to worry about, maybe it’s not by blood. You knew it’s not by air, you’ve seen plenty of people infected whose family was fine. So even if you do get infected, the people at the lab should be fine. Your friends would be fine. He would be fine. 

Next, incubation period. That’s a tough one, in-vitro studies show it takes the virus anywhere from 2 to 12 months to show symptoms. You don’t know how that changes in humans. You don’t know any of this shit for humans. You could be perfectly fine, you could die within the month. The thought made your blood run cold. 

You sat in your chair for the remainder of the night. Unmoving, unthinking. 

That’s how Norm found you.

“Hey, Ace. What are you doing up?”

You scrambled for a lie.

“Just woke up, actually. Listen, if you are going to check on the boy, can you please bring my supplies to the tent and tell the Sullys I won’t be in today? I was too exhausted to run any experiments yesterday so I will do it today.” 

“Oh… is everything alright? You haven’t missed a day in the village since you got your Avatar.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, just worried about the boy and want to get to the bottom of this sooner rather than later, if possible.”

“Alright, I can bring you back some of his blood to run as well?”

“NO!” 

Norm’s eyes widened in shock at your response and you knew you fucked up, you knew you slipped up. Calm yourself… 

“It’s just not necessary at the moment since I have other blood and I don’t want to overwhelm him, if it’s not imperative. I will retrieve some blood when I check on him tomorrow.”

Norm looked at you with a concerned look, but eventually relented.

“Ok, whatever you think, Ace.” 

“Thanks, Norm.” 

“Let me know what you find tonight. I’ll tell Jake, but they might not be happy with you.”

“You can explain it’s an emergency, I’m sure they’ll understand.”

 

You struggled to get up and get your legs to not want to collapse beneath you. Eventually, you made your way to the sink and washed, you scrubbed your face as hard as you could without removing a layer of skin, and your teeth until you felt the familiar taste of metal coat your teeth. You hoped that maybe you tried hard enough, the last 6 hours can just be erased from your life, from world. You hoped it could undo the damage that would plague you for the rest of your most likely very short life. 

Luckily, most scientists seemed to be out. Claire was teaching Na’vi kids English at Grace’s old school that Jake deemed fit to be reopened, Max left with Norm to check on the situation of the village, and most of the Avatars would be out on missions or training with Jake. You made your way to the quiet halls to one of the labs, and prepared for your long day ahead. This will be hard to do by yourself, but not impossible. 

First step, respiratory fluids. You remove a sterile cotton swab and swab your pharynx as thoroughly as possible and place it in a tube. That’s easy enough. Next comes the blood. Finding a vein has always been hard for people to do on you, and it’s not gotten any easier in time, so after poking yourself a few times in the wrong place, you manage to get enough blood to run experiments on. 

Hours of sample preparation, incubation, pipetting and running went by at an excruciatingly slow pace, like the universe was revelling in making every second of torture last forever. You thanked your lucky stars of the progress made in lab equipment and that you didn’t have to spent days on one PCR, like your mum was saying it had to be done back on Earth about a century ago. Regardless, it took most of the day for you to do everything you needed, check for all the proteins and markers you knew were deregulated with this virus, and by the early hours of night, you were done. 

Aș people were starting to return to the hub as another day was nearing its end, you retreated back to your bedroom to work on the data analysis. You did not want to see anyone, did not want to speak to anyone until you knew at least some things. The less you talked, the less lies that had to come out of your mouth, and that seemed ideal to you. 

Inputting the data and having to wait on some software to give you your literal death sentence felt so tragic is was almost comical, and you had to stop and ask yourself if you were some serial killer in a past life to warrant all the pain and misery life seemed adamant to throw at you. For the first time in so long you couldn’t even remember, things were going… well. You were strong, and doing well, and lived outside of the walls of this lab. You had a chance at something more, you had a chance at maybe one day healing and working through your issues and maybe even coming out the other side a better, healthier version of yourself. You had a chance at love.

And there it was… positive. One second.

THE FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF  STAGE I: DENIAL

Your blood became poison in the span of half a day, but at least you now knew it wasn’t transmitted through air. That means no one else would have to suffer because of you. The thought made you weirdly calm, and you realised you didn’t care about your own health all along. No, you weren’t sad anymore, just relieved. A wide smile appeared on your face at the results, and you jumped out of the chair with enthusiasm at the great news. Everybody would be ok. Norm, Max, they would all be ok. You will handle all the virus experiments and blood samples from now on. They wouldn’t have reason to doubt you or question you, not when it made most sense anyway, since you were always in the village and knew the protocols and techniques the best, anyway. You would go on the same way as you had, and no one had to know or suffer because of your mistakes. 

With those thoughts still floating in your mind and a Xanax on your tongue, you made your way to the comfortable bed and crashed without a dream in sight. 

You were up before dawn again, and ready to get started on your day at the village. You were looking forward to gun training with Jake, and finally putting those years of practice to good use. You found Norm deep in thought in the link room, and he didn’t register you walking in until you patted his shoulder and he jumped out of his skin.

 

“Jesus, Ace. You scared the shit out of me.” 

“I noticed. Why so jumpy, Norm?” 

He gave you the quickest look known to man then quickly busied himself with literally anything else. “No reason, just focused on the task at hand.”

“…turning on the linkpod?” 

“No one likes a smartass, you know?” 

“So how was the village yesterday? How is the boy?” 

“He’s alright, still not great, but his vitals are stable for now.” You noticed he did not answer your question about the village, and found slight panic rising in your chest.

“Is everything okay? Did something happen in the village?” 

“No, Ace, everything’s fine. You don’t have to worry about everything, you know. How did the experiments go yesterday?” 

“The virus is not airborne, it seems to be transmitted by blood, so we need to be very careful handling samples.” 

“We always are. But good work, good to have some concrete evidence finally. I’ll look over your analysis soon.”

“You know, I’m not quite done with it, so maybe wait and we can look over it together?”

“Sure, that makes sense.”

You didn’t buy Norm’s pathetic attempts at deflecting the subject of the village, but you did not want to fight him so early in the day, so you guess you had to find out what happened for yourself. You woke up in your Avatar body soon enough, and could already tell the village was already awake and buzzing with the perspective of a new day. The guitar sitting on the ground next to your sleeping mat caught your eye, and you smiled softly at the memory which now seems a life away. Your fingers lingered on the chords and you strummed it gently a few times, enjoying the sounds that seemed to settle in your heart. Adjusting your braids in the small mirror you brought with you a few weeks ago, you made your way out of your tent and straight into Neteyam’s chest with a loud thud. 

“What the fuck?” You say, indignantly and then look up to find Neteyam watching you with an unreadable expression adorning his beautiful face. 

“Hi.” He says, and tries to muster a small smile. 

“Hi…? Is there any particular reason you have decided to attack me first thing in the morning?” 

“I was just coming to get you, I heard the guitar playing. I didn’t think you would be running straight into me. Are you ready? We can spend the morning tracking a herd of Talioang that the hunter party spotted a few clicks south of the village. It will be good practice for you.” 

“…alright? Can I get some food first? I’m famished.”

Neteyam shifted uncomfortably in front of you and looked… nervous, you realised. What the hell was going on with everyone?

“I have food that Ma packed for us, we can eat in the forest? I’d really rather get a move on as soon as possible, this will most likely take most of today, anyway.”

“Is there a particular reason you seem so eager for me to leave? You and Norm have both been acting weird today, and you are both terrible liars.”

Neteyam gave you a hard look. “Let’s go, Y/N. Unlike what you like to think, you don’t need to know everything, and not everything concerns you. Let’s go, now.” Nothing’s changed, you realised bitterly. Last night was just a fluke and you hated yourself in that moment for letting your guard down. 

“You can be a real dick sometimes, Neteyam.” You said and took off without looking at him. 

You ran for about 5 clicks without checking behind you, knowing full well he was following you, your hearing being one of the many senses that heightened in this body. You stopped suddenly at the sight of a huge footprint, one you could identify as the Sturmbeest, or a Talioang, like it was known to the Na’vi. Soon enough, you saw the ground littered with them, and began carefully tracking the beasts.

“Alright. How far would you say they are and which direction?” Neteyam asked, approaching you slowly. He was back to teaching mode, and you tried your best to learn, instead of recoiling and telling him to go to hell, which is what you really wanted to do. 

You touched the ground and felt it with your fingers, trying to assess the moisture level and deepness of the mark. You thought about for a while.

“I’d say they’re quite fresh. Maybe this morning? Taloioang move slowly, about 1 click every hour or two, so I’d say we’ll find them about 2 clicks east?”

He didn’t even have to touch the ground to be able to assess it. He was impressive. 

“Good. Let’s go. We shouldn’t run, they have good hearing and the wind is blowing east, which means they’ll be able to smell us if we’re not careful. We will take a roundabout way and approach them from the south.” 

You both made your way through the forest and it was your turn to follow him, although you stayed close behind and tried to look around you and pick up on clues, tiny sounds and movements, trying to learn, trying to see. “Eyes on the tracks, Y/N.” 

You rolled your eyes, but did as you were told. Eventually, Neteyam let you deem the appropriate time to stray from the tracks and move south to avoid being spotted. Soon enough, you saw the herd of prodigious beings, bathing in a shallow lake. You made your way slowly, sneaking on the ground, with Neteyam close to you, and you felt his arms grazing your sides every inch of the way. 

The herd was protecting the calves, 5 in total, playing and splashing in the clear water. You watched in amazement, just enjoying the view of these seemingly ferocious beasts that in the moment, felt more like a family watching their children play at the local pool. You couldn’t believe the beauty and mild predisposition, the complex nature of these animals whose equivalents were long gone on Earth, long decimated by humans and their needless desire for wealth and acquisition, for mindless cruelty. You felt your stomach drop at the realisation that soon, this could be Pandora, if you didn’t fight will all your being in the upcoming war. 

You felt a sudden gentle pressure on your lower back, a pressure you quickly identified as Neteyam’s hand and you shuddered at the touch. He neared his mouth to your ears, and you felt his warm breath tickling your neck, a sudden warmth pooling in your lower abdomen. 

“You’re not allowed to kill anything yet, but I want you to show me how you would go about it. Show me your bow work, how would you aim from this position.”

You slowly removed your bow from from your person and sat up, in a now crouched stance, and loaded the arrow, doing your best to accommodate for the uncomfortable position you were in and the tight space you were sharing with another person. You held your breath, engaged your core, and aimed as if you were going to release your arrow on the target about 300m away. Neteyam’s large hand touched your upper thigh, by your left hip and squeezed gently. Your arm dropped suddenly and snapped your head in his direction. He didn’t react to your sudden snap, instead talking lowly, so as to not give your location away. “Your leg is not in a position by which you can maximise release. You will have more power in the shot if you place this knee on the ground and lean into it.” 

You wanted to take that hand and either break it or redirect it on other parts of your body that felt like they would explode if they didn’t feel him, have his touch provide the relief that was desperately yearned for, needed. You wanted to scream at him or make him coax the screams out of you like a war-cry, wild and desperate. You wanted to kill him, you wanted him to kill you, slowly and painfully, taking his time on your body until you were falling apart at the seams around him. You hated him, you loved him. You hated him.

You gave him a hard look, an angry look directed at your thigh, and he removed his hand from you. You wondered if he knew, knew what he was doing, wondered if he felt the same way, if he too was struggling to catch his breath at the torture of knowing he can’t have you, claim you, right now, right in this second, right here. You hoped he did, hope it ate him alive, the yearning and the desire. Because that’s what it was doing to you, what he was doing to you. You turned your attention back to the herd and adjusted your position based on his advice. He was right, you could tell right away, as you felt a lot more power when aiming the arrow this time. 

“Much better. We can go now, we will give the location to the hunting party and the will be able to secure us dinner for a couple of weeks from the back of a couple of Ikrans.”

 

You made your way out of their surroundings, and slowly started walking back to the village. After about half an hour, he stopped on a rock and removed the food he was carrying in a pouch. You didn’t join him, preferring to keep your distance and thus a clear mind, not being able to afford being weak around him anymore. 

“I thought you were famished.” He says, with a slight smile. You shook your head and turned around, taking in the views of the forest, distracting yourself with the flowers reaching out their neon green tendrils towards you. You kneeled next to one, and touched them gently, enjoying the way they cupped around your hand and tugged, like they were urging you to come closer so they can spill their long-forgotten dreams to you. You heard him sigh loudly.

“Sorry for being a dick. Just had a fight with mum and dad, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have, and I am sorry. Come eat, please? I don’t want you passing out on me, you’re not as easy to carry as you used to be when you were human.” 

You remained on your knees still, focused on only the plants and your gentle tug-of-war. You knew how much pressure Neteyam was under, has been for pretty much his entire life. A prodigy created… or made, no one could really know for sure, he began training when most babies learn to walk, and speak, and play. He has never had a childhood the way Lo’ak, or Kiri, or Tuk, or pretty much any other Na’vi children did, mostly fleeting moments of bliss in between a lot more moments of stress and struggle. He never complained, though. Not out loud, not to anyone else but you, once he realised you were a safe haven from the storm. You didn’t pass judgement, or make him feel bad for sharing his feelings, and he felt like he could tell you all the hardest truths his heart has always craved to speak out loud. You have always wanted to protect him from the world, a world that demanded so much of him, that asked for a sacrifice of which it was undeserving. Being Olo’yektan, leading the people, being the one person everyone relied on was a great honour, a great achievement - one you didn’t think he wanted, but was never given the chance to decline. 

“What happened?” 

You walked slowly towards the rock he was laying on, and sat at its foot, crossing your legs on the slightly damp grass. You grabbed a piece of jerky from the pile of food and slowly chewed through it, humming in appreciation at the smoky taste and rich flavour of the meat. 

Neteyam grimaced and didn’t look at you, choosing to focus instead of his arm guards, picking at something that was clearly not there. “More sacrifices I need to make in the name of the future, of the people.” 

���I see you still haven’t learnt to say no, even after all this time apart.” 

Neteyam’s hand froze in midair, his eyes widening slightly - it was the first time you brought up the year apart. He braced himself for what he thought was the beginning of the end, of you finally demanding answers he didn’t think would ever satisfy you, but no other words left your lips.  

“I can’t say no. I owe my parents everything I have, everything I am. This village, this life, is all I know. My dad gave up on everything he knew to stand up for our people, to make sure we’d get a future worth living, a family worth saving, a world still worth fighting for. He became Olo’yektan despite all that stood against him because he loved my mum, loved us, even then, even before we were born. My grandpa died defending this village, watching home tree get decimated in front of his eyes, with only the people’s safety on his mind and tongue. I see that bow that my mum cherishes like a gift from Eywa herself and I want to be worthy of it, someday. And if it means giving up some things, maybe that’s just how it’s meant to be.” 

“Maybe whatever you’re giving up is making room for something ever better, Neteyam. Sometimes we want something so bad, we can’t see the forest for the trees.” 

He looks at you confused for a second.

“That’s a saying. What I’m trying to say is maybe you are over focused on something you want right now, that you think is the best thing for you, but maybe you just are not focusing on the bigger picture. Maybe in the future, whatever you’re giving up now will make room for something that was much better for you all along.”

Disappointment filled his chest at your words. Neteyam looked at you with deep sadness marking his features, and he could see you were trying to think of things to say that could make him feel better. In all honesty, he wanted - needed - you to tell him to be selfish, and trust his gut, and follow what he knew was right in his heart, but he also knew that being selfish is not a trait that came naturally to you. You have always respected the deep bond Neteyam had to his family and his people and you always used to tell him how proud of him you were for how strong he was, for the lengths he was willing to go to to protect and nurture those bonds. 

You felt an overwhelming sense of grief at the realisation that you will never get to see him become Olo’yektan, see him become the man everybody knew he was. He would never be yours, and although that painful conclusion had settled in your soul and had time to scar in all the time you knew him, a new wound, deeper, bloodier, deadlier, tore your heart apart at the thought you would not even be able to watch from afar. You would have been satisfied with scraps, just watching him rule, and be, and love someone else and imagining it was you. You never thought you’d get more than that anyway, never had any delusions for more. The scraps would have been enough, and now even those were brutally taken from you, like everything else in this life. 

You needed to leave, now. 

“Should we head back? It’s getting late.”

You walked back in deep, uncomfortable silence. Eclipse made the nature shine and glimmer with colours your sadness dulled to muted tones. There was light coming from the village and you realise how badly you wanted to be alone, in your tent and read, or watch a movie or a show, and ignore this world for a little while while you licked your newly-opened wounds. Tonight was a communal dinner around the big bonfire in the centre of the village, and you felt grateful your presence would not be missed in such a crowd. You’ve come to love these dinners, another one of the many ways the tribe connected to the village and to each other, but tonight you couldn’t entertain even the thought long enough to count.

“Can you please tell your family I am sorry, but I will probably head to bed early. I’ll be early for breakfast tomorrow, I promise.” 

“I can do that. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You nodded absentmindedly and closed the flap of the tent shut.

Neteyam watched as you left him, still reeling from your conversation. Much like you, he just wished to hide in his family’s tent and pretend for a night things are different, that they are better. Actually, if we are talking about wishes, he wishes he could be in your tent. In all honestly, dealing with you on a day to day basis, seeing you, your body, touching it more and longer than he knew he reasonably had to, was making him think thoughts he knew he had no business thinking. In his wildest dreams, he’d be in your tent and making your eyes roll back in the way that drove him crazy. In his wildest dreams, he’d be coaxing sounds out of you that only he would ever hear. In his wildest dreams, your hands all over him would heal him and break him at the same time. He was desperately in need of some relief, and he loathed all decisions in his life that lead to you not being able to be the one to provide it for him. 

He made his way to the bonfire, and greeted all of the Na’vi that respectfully bowed their heads at his arrival. He saw his family at the centre of the crowd, where they normally sat, and joined them silently. They all gave him uneasy looks - all but one. Lo’ak was blatantly glaring at the older Sully, a look of disappointment and disgust marring his normally kind face that reminded Neteyam so much of their dad. 

“Did you tell her?” 

Kiri elbowed Lo’ak in the abdomen, but he didn’t flinch. He did not even bother to acknowledge Kiri, or the low hiss escaping their mum’s lips - his eyes were still boring into Neteyam, unwavering. 

“No.” Neteyam’s expression darkened and in a split second, he became the warrior his dad moulded him into. “And you will not, either, Lo’ak. Do you understand me?” Lo’ak had to look up to look at his brother who was now dangerously towering over him. 

“Oh, the mighty warrior giving out orders, what else is new?” 

“Lo’ak, that’s enough.” Neteyam heard Jake intervene, and he eventually had to physically put his body in between his two sons, who still refused to look away from each other.

“Fnawe’tu (coward).”

 

Neteyam watched his brother turn his back on his family and walk away from the feast, and although he wouldn’t admit it to himself, he knew deep down that Lo’ak was right.

 

You were almost robotically flipping through the directory of movies and tv shows on the laptop that you had with you in the village, not quite ready to go back to the lab and have to deal with the consequences of your newly acquired “condition”. You had all night to do experiments, and lie to yourself that you were fine until you eventually succumbed to a Xanax-induced blackout. You wanted to be in this body just a little while longer, because, in this body, it was easy to forget the realities of your actual life.

You saw a five-fingered hand emerge from the entrance to your tent, and you laughed incredulously at the clown you loved, who seemed to have a knack for improving your dour mood.

“I am here to bother you.” You got up and started making your way towards the entrance of your tent.

“Shouldn’t you be at dinner?” You say, laughing and pulling Lo’ak by the hand, so he stumbles unattractively into you. 

You wrap your arms around him and hug him gently. “Skxawng.” 

“I should, but I am here instead. We haven’t had movie night in so long.” He lay on your sleep mat and you hissed for him to move over. “You’re getting way too comfortable hissing at people.”

“Not people, Lo’ak, you!” You smiled saying that, knowing you were quoting Kiri, and he groaned exasperatedly. 

A few more weeks passed, and you felt the discrepancy between your bodies become more pronounced than it had ever been. It turns out, the incubation period of a Na’vi virus in a human is not long at all, and roughly around last week, you began displaying symptoms. You were taking every drug under the sun to try to soften them, but you had seen one too many good Na’vi people die due to this to know what was lurking underneath the comfortable cushion of drug-induced health. Despite all that, you felt on top of the world in your avatar. You were continuously improving, and, with a little bit of luck, will be completing your first kill soon - the first stepping stone to becoming Taronyu, hunter. If you do that successfully, you will be taking your Iknimaya with other Na’vi apprentices, and finally get your own Ikran. You were buzzing at the thought, and the image of you flying in the sky was enough to push any other worries out of your mind. 

After that weird day that ended with Lo’ak in your tent watching Friends together and teaching him the chords to a song you both loved, things went back to normal, sort of. You couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that the Sullys were hiding something from you. They exchanged looks, and avoided certain subjects, and you were starting to be worried they guessed you were ill, and were tiptoeing around the subject so as to not upset you. That was a good theory, although it could not explain the heavy tension between Neteyam and Lo’ak that also started that night. 

You saw them bicker and fight your whole life: two opposing personalities, both of whom had misunderstandings about the other. Neteyam could never understand Lo’ak, understand that, despite being the chieftain’s son and the grandson of the Tsahik and former Olo’yektan, people still looked at him like he was not quite full Na’vi. His eyebrows and five fingers made his appearance uncanny enough to always attract whispers and looks, and despite Lo’ak’s apparent devil-may-care attitude, he cared. Neteyam could also not understand anyone who wished to live freely and discover themselves, make decisions and choices that would lead to a happy, fulfilled life, rather than a proud and accomplished one. Finally, Neteyam did not understand that skill and tenacity doesn’t come easy to everybody, and the weight of living in his shadow was bearing heavily on his baby brother’s back. 

On the other hand, Lo’ak never tried to understand the burden Neteyam had to carry, because, in his desire to not appear weak, he took it in strides and never complained. Lo’ak never fully understood the downfalls of what being “the perfect son” brings: no freedom, no childhood, no time, no fun, no choice. He only ever focused on the positives: praise from his family and clan, skill and composure, the title of future Leader of the Omatikaya. He will also never be able to understand the depths of Neteyam’s love for him, who, despite all their differences, would be willing to sacrifice everything, even his own life, to make sure his baby brother would never having to experience these burdens.

This tension felt like more. More than you’ve ever seen, not mended in time, they were always glowering at each other and only speaking to each other if prompted or forced by their increasingly frustrated family. You tried to talk to both of them individually and ask, but you were promptly sent on your way each time. You could tell Lo’ak was itching to spit it out, but every time he got close, he flashed you a look of hurt and fear, and moved on. 

Eventually, you stopped worrying about it. It will come out in time, and you had better things to worry about. Your training became brutal after that day tracking Sturmbeests. Neteyam would come to your tent before dawn, sometimes having to wait for you while you woke up in your Avatar body, and you were always gone past eclipse. You were tracking, joining hunting parties to learn, working on shooting arrows while on Pa’li or in nearly impossible positions (he made you shoot targets hanging upside down from the branches of trees, seriously) and working on guns and practicing with Jake and his soldiers. Jake made you his second-in-command during these sessions, and you enjoyed having the roles reversed and having to watch Neteyam squirm every time you touched his arm, or waist, or thighs, in order to adjust his shooting form. You also taught Lo’ak, sometimes late in the nights, where he would sneak into your tent and ask you questions about guns that he hoped would bring him in his father’s good graces for once in his life. You loved teaching them, and you felt powerful with all the eyes on you, trying to absorb every piece of information coming out of your mouth. 

“In your hands, you are holding a sub machine-gun.” You said and you made your way through the 10 soldiers in your midst. “It can fire up 600 rounds per minute. You have a button on the side of the weapon, as you can see right there”, you stopped and show everyone on your own weapon, “that allows you to choose between semi automatic and fully automatic. What’s the difference, Lo’ak?”

“A semi-automatic guns fires one shot when you pull the trigger, a fully automatic gun fires continuously until you release the trigger.” 

“Tsantu (good guy)!” you said with an intimate smile. Lo’ak was making amazing progress, and you were proud to be even a small reason why. 

Neteyam gave Lo’ak a hard look as he answered your question. He was angry with his brother because of his recent attitude, he thought. That’s the reason. Not at all because you were smiling at him with that dazzling smile that used to be reserved for him years ago, definitely not because he knew Lo’ak was sneaking in your tent at night and doing Eywa-knows-what, a fact which kept Neteyam up nights with images he would do everything in his power to be able to erase from his brain. Neteyam was exhausted. He hasn’t slept since this thing started, not until Lo’ak returned to his tent after his meetings with you, and he was able to look at him in the dim light of the night and gauge for himself if his brother was flushed, or panting, or extra happy for one reason or another. Despite never seeing anything that he could deem suspicious, the images of his baby brother taking for himself what was his, what should be his, haunted him and made him sick to his stomach. 

Coward. Lo’ak words rang in his ears incessantly throughout each day, never being able to fully block them out. 

Neteyam saw you move from Lo’ak and towards him, and tried to remember what they were talking about. Sub-machine guns, right. 

“Now, SMGs are best used in tighter quarters or close to mid-range. The spread will make it inefficient for long-range. If you find yourself on the back of your Ikran shooting at a plane or Valkyrie, make sure you close the gap between you or use your bow, instead.”

“An SMG will have a lot of recoil, making it harder to shoot accurately, but there are a few tips you can use to make to improve your aim and accuracy.”

“First. Always fire in short bursts, if you are firing on automatic mode. A few shots at a time will make sure the kick is not unmanageable. Two, account for the kick and adjust your aim to compensate. Think of shooting an arrow and how you always take the wind, its direction, speed and power in consideration before you actually release. It’s a similar principle. The recoil will make the gun kick upwards, so always aim slightly lower than what you want to hit. Three, don’t aim for the head. Leave that for a bow or an assault/sniper rifle with a scope. Aim for the abdomen and chest, since that is a wider target and more likely to hit. Everyone on the same page?”

Neteyam was forever in awe of you, but it was particularly impressive watching you now. You were confident and powerful and knowledgeable. Neteyam felt bad admitting it, but you were a much better teacher than their dad ever was. Toruk Makto had many incredible qualities, but his patience was definitely not amongst them, and his lessons tend to get a bit derailed by his inability to understand that Na’vi are not predisposed to guns or understanding Sky People technology. You were calm, and kind, and funny, and you made it easy for everyone to follow your instructions. In the span on a few weeks, all of the Na’vi and Avatar soldiers training for the upcoming war became better at pretty much every aspect that they were training in, and I think everyone felt just a bit more comfortable about the conflict that was soon to befall them, with you by their side. 

After the lesson was complete, you left alongside Lo’ak, sparing one last look in Neteyam’s direction. He was already watching you, and you saw a fleeting angry look that was quickly replaced with an expressionless mask. He was getting good at that, you thought. 

“Do you want to do anything? If I have to listen to Kiri talk about all the new types of flowers and plants and shit she keeps finding in the woods, I will lose my mind.”

“Be nice.” 

Kiri has been particularly hyperfixated on her newfound discoveries recently, and you tried your best to pay attention to every time she was describing them, in detail, but in reality you were always so exhausted by the time dinner came around that you were only assimilating about a tenth of all the words coming out of her mouth. You felt bad, and made a mental note to dedicate a couple of days to your friend that you saw less and less each week. 

“Your Iknimaya is getting closer and closer each day, how do you feel?”

“Honestly I haven’t thought about it that much, just taking it one day at a time.”

“I think you should start thinking about it, cause it’s going to happen. You’ve managed to blow everyone’s expectations out of the water. It barely been two months since you got your avatar body, not even my dad did this so fast. You were made for this, Angel.” 

You didn’t know what to say to that. You were grateful for Lo’ak’s faith in you, but with everything happening in your human body, it felt pointless looking towards the future. 

“You will be one of us, soon. I’ve had dreams about this my whole life, you know? It’s like I manifested your Avatar, Norm should be thanking me.” 

“Lo’ak…” 

You didn’t like the turn this conversation took, and felt an uncomfortable twinge settle in your chest at his words. 

“There are perks that come with being an Omatikaya, you know? You can make your bow out of the wood of the Home Tree… and you can choose a mate.” 

Fuck. 

Neteyam was making his way back to the village with the rest of the soldiers, casually chatting to one of the Avatars returning with them. He wasn’t paying attention to the way until his body knocked into one of the Na’vi walking in front of him. Utsou was staring intently at a scene unfolding in front of him, a scene that turned Neteyam’s blood to shards of glass, leaving cuts and bruises along his entire body. It was you, smiling, running your hand up and down Lo’ak’s arm whilst his hand was cupping your face and caressing your cheek. It was such an intimate interaction, it felt wrong to everyone there to even be able to witness it, and Neteyam felt himself becoming nauseous. With the image now seared into his memory and rage turning his breaths to pants, he turned around and left everything - everyone - behind. 

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