#that's why i always answer the first silly question at least

[the-zine-directive]

* ✵ * ˚ Meet Our Triumvirate! ✦ ⋆ ˚ ✫

The Zine Directive is being spearheaded by a team of three editors: Kat, Margot and Sim. We thought it was about time we introduce ourselves!

Pronouns: she/her Socials: spirk-trek on bluesky and discord, katruyck on ao3, @spirk-trek on tumblr (inactive) Starfleet Division: Probably command or security! I'm a black belt so I might even be a rare member of the red-shirt-survivor club 😏 Kirk, Spock, or McCoy?: Captain Kirk my beloved <3 Favorite OTHER Star Trek character: Chekov for the bridge crew, but I'm also obsessed with Vanna from The Cloundminders! Favorite episode: Operation: Annihilate! for sure. I love Shatner's acting in this episode, and Spock going blind for just long enough for McCoy and Kirk to be sick with guilt only to be like, "oh yeah, I have a second eyelid" is 10/10 writing. Philosophical dilemmas, silly props, shooting on location… Spock being in pain and trying to hide it the whole time... "Let me help" ... what’s not to love?! Least favorite episode: Elaan of Troyius, Wolf in the Fold, and Miri are honestly a three-way tie.  Favorite movie: For Star Trek movies, TMP all the way! For regular movies it has to be Forrest Gump. I've seen it over 100 times and can quote most of it from memory 🙃 Favorite fanfic trope: I love anything soft and full of whimsy. My favorite spirk-specific trope is probably accidental bonding! Anything else we should know? I've traveled a lot (25 countries, 30 states), I went to university in Scotland, I have 24 tattoos (including 2 Star Trek ones), my favorite color is yellow, and I have a history degree!

Pronouns: she/they, but it doesn't matter much to me Socials: ao3 booksrule123, tumblr @margottrek, youtube margot-forgot Starfleet Division: Probably engineering, or just chilling at a starbase somewhere. Kirk, Spock, or McCoy?: Kirk, but McCoy's a very close second. Favorite OTHER Star Trek character: Saavik! I also got very immediately attached to Tasha Yar while watching TNG. Favorite episode: The Empath is the easy answer, but I also love The Changeling a lot. Least favorite episode: The Omega Glory gave me such intense secondhand embarrassment for some reason lol Favorite movie: The Final Frontier is my favorite Trek movie. For a non-Trek answer, that'd probably be the Truman Show. Or one of the animated Barbie movies, for nostalgia's sake. Favorite fanfic trope: I'm a sucker for soulmate AUs, especially platonic soulmates. Anything else we should know? I'm a very tactile person. I like having physical things. so I'm really excited to work on a physical zine project like this! ❤️

Pronouns: ze/zir (or any pronouns) Socials: @self-made-purgatories on tumblr, simtrek on bluesky and selfmadepurgatories on ao3 Starfleet Division: Command gold for me! I would make an excellent helmsman. I am always the driver on road trips! I am planning to pull up a chair between Sulu and Chekov on the helm console and together we can exchange sassy comments about the romantic shenanigans of the captain and the first officer. (I also have a Doylist answer; when my t'hy'la and I cosplay as Kirk and Spock, I am the Kirk. Naturally, I have two Command Gold uniforms: an intact one and a lirpa-sliced one.) Kirk, Spock, or McCoy?: Oh WHY would you ever make me choose? That's just cruel. I'll take all three please preferably in those cutoff crop-tops from Bread and Circuses. If I REALLY had to pick just one, I suppose it would be Spock. He and I are kindred spirits. (Although, if Kirk's shirt is off, so are all the bets.) Favorite other Star Trek character: I adore Lt. Uhura. She is the smartest person on that whole ship. I absolutely love when a fanfic author sneaks in a little incidental "Uhura, you have the conn," as a treat. I also love Scotty, as well as Dr. Miranda Jones from "Is There In Truth No Beauty?" Favorite episode: The Devil in the Dark. It has everything! Big questions about who our enemies are and why. A philosophical exploration of what counts as "life." Protective Spirk! A very intense mind meld. Crying Spock. "By golly Jim, I'm beginning to think I can cure a rainy day!" THE HORTA. (Wait, maybe I will change my answer for "Favorite other Star Trek character" to Mother Horta.) Least favorite episode: Hard to say; maybe The Alternative Factor. The color trickery and the overlaid nebula and the spinning the camera upside-down are interesting effects for the 60s, but aside from Lt. Masters there is very little else happening in that episode. Favorite movie: TMP. It is a BEAUTIFUL film and I will die on this hill. (I am always saying that in order to fully appreciate this film you have to either ship Spirk or be in love with Spock, so either way I'm covered.) Favorite fanfic trope: Old Married Spirk! Vulcan hand kissing!! And Canon Compliant -- I love when authors find a clever way to retcon something that is canon but doesn't make too much sense, like continuity errors or weird dialogue. Anything else we should know? One of my favorite things about this fandom is its extremely rich and long history of fanworks. It's a genuine privilege to become a part of this legacy and help continue this tradition.

[dairine-bonnet]

It seems to me that Saul Karath is a revanasi shipper (or revastila one, it depends)...)

May I think that he's a secret revalek shipper too?:D

[minranghae]

Taste | 18+

》 pairing: c.san x f!reader

》 genre: fluff, smut, angst if you squint really hard

》 warnings: friend’s brother!san, female reader, general silliness, stubborn reader, san loves to tease, hes a sweetie too ofc, smut, piv, oral (f. receiving), fingering, pet names (angel, baby, etc.), coworkers, san bites reader one (1) time, barely proofread, unprotected, lmk if i missed any

》 wc: 5.2k

》 hello! i am back from the dead with my second fic and second installment in the senses series. i do apologize that this took so long, but i do plan on releasing more stuff soon-ish. i'm working on a longer series, so who knows what'll hapen lol. finally, i just want to say thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy this!

 “God, I really can’t stand you, San! Stop following me, pervert!”

“Yeah, whatever, just get in so we can talk,” he yells to you with his arm hanging out the window of his car, an annoyed, yet amused smirk covering his face.

“No way!” You yell over your shoulder, too embarrassed to face him both physically and figuratively. 

Really, how could you? Not after you found him with your diary in his hands, reading it like it was his favorite novel. At first, you tried to convince yourself that he didn’t see those pages, but the blush on his cheeks told you otherwise. 

And that’s why you’re here: running away from San in the middle of the night.

“I’ll make you a milkshake,” San coos from the car, causing you to turn your head in interest, “You know you love ‘em,” he offers, as if you’re a dog and he’s holding a treat in front of your face. 

And god damn it, it works.

“Fine, but I’m not talking to you until I get one,” you say, opening the car door and climbing in.

“You’re talking to me now,” he quips, earning a look from you that he thinks would’ve killed him if it had the ability.

“Alright, tough crowd,” he murmurs to himself with a dry laugh, hoping to earn a giggle- or at least a smile- from you, but to no avail.

The whole situation was so embarrassing. And degrading, and stupid, and embarrassing-

“Stop thinking so much,” he swats at your arm playfully, noticing the clear look of discomfort and sheer, unabashed embarrassment on your face, “you don’t even know what I have to say yet.” 

You answer him with a small hum, deciding against giving him a verbal response, because no matter how much you’d like to curl up in a hole and die, you’re still as stubborn as the day San met you. 

You officially met him the first day you worked at the diner. Your best friend’s family had owned it since the old owners left, leaving the significantly smaller family of four looking for new employees. College debt had already begun sneaking its way into the back of your mind, and Eunbi needed to work with someone other than her nagging parents or annoying older brother. It was the perfect opportunity for you.

“C’mon! Just try it!” The boy working with you begged.

“I already told you, I have trauma with milkshakes!”

San laughed to himself, trying to hide the amusement evident on his face.

“Look, I’m sorry you found a hair in your milkshake however long ago, but I can assure you that my milkshake is hairless,” he held his little finger up to you, “pinky promise.”

Rolling your eyes, you locked your pinky with his. Your hands lingered together for a moment too long, until San pulled his away to push the drink closer to you.

“San, you know, I’m not really a huge fan of chocolate-” 

“Didn’t you and Eunbi make chocolate cupcakes for your birthday though?”

You freeze, cheeks heating up at his question, unsure if it was the fact that he’d caught you in a lie or that he knew and remembered what you and Eunbi had done for your birthday bringing the blush to your face. Attempting to hide your embarrassment, you shot him a small smirk, gently pursing your lips.

“‘Gotcha there, honey.”

Ever since that day, San always had a milkshake waiting for you at the end of each shift. And maybe it was that kindness that made you blush, or maybe it was the fact that his eyes smiled along with his lips every time he greeted you. It could’ve been the way he always knew how to make you giggle, but whatever it was, it was clear that you’d fallen for San.

Which is weird. Weird because he’s older than you, he’s your coworker, he’s out of your league, and worst of all: he’s Eunbi’s brother.

Really? How cliche is that? It’s not even like you could tell Eunbi about it. That would’ve made everything so much worse. It’s embarrassing enough to be so head over heels for a guy who just sees you as his little sister’s best friend, but to have people know about it too? There’d be no coming back from that.

And that’s exactly why you decided to start keeping a diary, or mindful journaling as you called it. That sounded better than keeping a diary.

You originally started it to confess some of your feelings about San. You wrote how embarrassed you were to have a crush on him. You wrote about the milkshakes he made you and the times he defended you against angry customers. You wrote about how stressed you felt about life in general. Your worries, your fears, the moments of your days that you wanted to forget, but your mind wouldn’t let you. You wrote about anything you couldn’t confess to another person. 

On particularly late nights full of hopeless pining and horny desperation, you’d write about your fantasies, some involving random celebrities or TV characters, but most involving San. 

It was nothing too in depth, it was more about how much you wanted just a taste of him. You knew you could never have him for good, but if you could just feel his strong arms around you or his lips on your skin just once, maybe that’d be good enough. Just a little taste. It felt dirty thinking about him in that sort of way, but who would see it anyways? 

Little did you know, San himself would.

It had slipped out of your bag. And being the kind, and relatively organized coworker he is, San picked it up to put it back in your bag for you. The way it landed on the floor, though, left it open on its spine with its pages just begging to be read. 

He wasn’t going to read it. That would be an invasion of privacy, and San wasn’t that kind of guy. He wouldn’t do that.

But when he picked it up, he couldn’t help but notice his name on the page. And unfortunately, as it does most of us, curiosity got the best of him. 

San tried to stop himself, he really did. But, knowing just how eager you were for him put his head in a spin. He just couldn't help but picture you underneath him, with that adorable blush and shy smile that only appears when he starts teasing you. He wanted so badly to hear how you whimper, to feel how warm you are, to see how sweet you taste. He had a feeling you liked him, but he never would've guessed you reciprocated the feeling so strongly.

He saw this as more of an opportunity for you two. He wasn’t going to tell you what he’d seen; he’d just confess to you one night. And maybe it’d have to be secret for a bit, but eventually you could be his, and he wanted nothing more than that.

No big deal.

But, as soon as he heard a small gasp from the doorway and looked up to see your eyes welling with tears, he knew that plan was well fucked. 

San always thought you were pretty. From the moment Eunbi first brought you over, he couldn’t help but notice your expressive eyes and beautiful hair. But what he liked most was that shining smile you had. And seeing that he’d wiped it from your face as soon as you walked in, he just had to chase you.

And so, as you sat across from him in a booth in the dimly lit diner, he studied your face: the embarrassed blush and sweaty gleam sheening your forehead, your pouty lips wrapped around the straw of a chocolate milkshake as your eyebrows furrowed.

Even your beauty was stubborn.

He began softly, so as not to scare you, his fingers drumming against the table in a gentle rhythm, “So… do you like the milkshake?”

You looked up at him, an eyebrow quirked, “Yeah, it’s good.”

San pushed out a sigh at your icy reply, settling back in his seat as he let his palm fall flat against the table. He knew what he wanted to say, he just couldn’t find the words. You broke the silence a moment later.

“Look, we can both pretend like you saw absolutely nothing at all and I’ll ask to work different times of the day so we won’t even have to see each other. I’m not weird, I promise, I just-”

“Shh,” he cooed, grabbing one of your hands, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back of it, “you didn’t even let me talk yet.”

San’s gaze scanned your pretty face for a moment, falling onto those eyes and lips he adored. His heart pounded against the back of his ribs, and yet, you seemed so nervous. Had he read it wrong?

“Did you mean it? What you wrote?” he asked, his voice holding a subtle tone of insecurity. His gaze fell to the table where your hands met, his grip tightening just slightly.

You looked up at him, your wide eyes sweeping over his strong face and your breath picking up. Of course you meant it, but did he want you to mean it? 

“Why are you asking that?” you mumble, pulling your hand from his shyly. Your entire face was tinged pink from embarrassment and guilt, so anxious. San couldn’t stand it.

He made an effort to grab your hand again, his other hand lifting your chin gently so you’d look at him. He shook your head a little, trying to bring out a tiny smile again. 

“You said you needed my face between your thighs…”

Your body went rigid. Out of all the entries, he just had to read that one? You remember writing it after watching him open something with his teeth one day, his jaw flexing as he used his teeth to rip open the plastic packet. Unfortunately, your mind was clouded by unsavory thoughts later that night, and so, into the journal those fantasies went. 

“I’m just saying, I’ve needed a taste for a while now, too. Just give me a chance. Don’t run, please,” he pleaded softly, his grip tightening on your hand ever so slightly. He gave you that look, the one where his eyebrows would furrow so gently and his eyes gleamed softly, a desperation hidden in them. San wasn’t one to beg, but he couldn’t let you think he didn’t like you.

To his surprise, the confession didn’t make you smile. Instead, you felt your eyes well up with tears and a heavy weight lift off your shoulders. Slowly, you snaked around the table to San’s side of the booth, immediately wrapping your arms around one of his as you cried into his shoulder. He received you warmly, his free hand coming up to pat your head softly with sweet coos leaving his mouth, calming and affectionate.

“I thought you were gonna hate me forever, Sannie. I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, hiccuping softly, no even noticing your snot blotting San’s shirt. Such a mess.

San let out a breathy laugh, guiding your face up and off of his shoulder. He grabbed a napkin from the holder at the end of the table and wiped your nose with it gently, an affectionate air about him. He’d never seen you so emotional, and though his heart constricted seeing your tears, he was just happy to be the one taking care of you: his precious one. In a way, seeing you so worked up over something he saw as no big deal was endearing. Then again, almost everything about you was endearing to San. 

He smiled down at you after wiping your nose, mumbling, “Pretty girl.” You could feel your cheeks go red instantly, feeling like it was your first time having a crush all over again. 

He continued, his deep voice soft and sweet suddenly, “I could never hate you. Never, never,” he shook his head a bit, leaning in so that your foreheads were pressed together, “what I read only surprised me, but it would never make me hate you. So, don’t apologize for liking me. I like you, too.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat as he said that. In fact, it seemed like cardiac arrest would be the next step if he didn’t stop looking at you with those soft eyes.

“Never knew you had such a dirty mind,” he teased, rubbing your arm with his free hand gently.

And just like that, your eyebrows furrowed again and you hit his arm gently, too embarrassed to be sappy for long.

“Stop that! It’s not good to hold in all your thoughts, you know. You should write your feelings down,” you scolded, face bright red and lips pouting. San took the scolding at first, but it wasn’t much use. He was too focused on how cute your face looked all scrunched up. 

And, he couldn’t deny it. Being scolded was pretty hot.

“There you go again,” San interrupted, sighing playfully. He couldn’t help but tease. You stopped mid-sentence, unsure of what you were even scolding him about now.

“Hm? What?” you asked softly, a little pout remaining on your lips.

San giggled a little, his eyes squeezing shut as he threw his head back. It was just too much fun for him. He leaned in closer to your face, close enough that your noses nearly met in the middle, whispering, “You’re too busy being angry to let me give you a taste of me.”

That cocky bastard. Cocky, and teasing, and sexy…

Your eyebrows quirked up and your cheeks burned even hotter as he leaned in closer, his mouth just next to your ear. 

“That’s what you wanted, right? What you wrote in your diary… ahem, journal,” he whispered, need dripping from his words. 

And yet, you were too embarrassed to speak. Or, maybe flustered was the right word. Either way, your brain didn’t quite work when San teased you normally, and especially not when his hands traveled to your waist, thumbs pressing into you gently.

“W-well, yes, but it was just a fantasy! I was just imagining! If you read more, you’d see I wrote about celebrities also…” you stammered, your hands searching for a place to rest along with your eyes. 

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not special?” San asked, biting his lip to hold back a cocky smile.

You gasped a little, hands instinctively finding San’s firm chest, “No, no! I just meant, just,” you panicked a bit, somehow losing your words yet again as San put his hands over yours.

“So, I am special? Am I special enough to have a taste of you?” San asked softly, still teasing, though there was an undercurrent of seriousness in his voice, something like an invitation.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Sannie… What would Eunbi think?” You ask softly, eyes round and full of worry. Unintentionally, you leaned further into San’s chest, prompting him to pull you into a hug. He cradled the back of your head, petting your hair softly.

“She doesn’t have to know yet. And you can always say no, baby. I know I tease you a lot, but it’s just because you’re so cute when you’re worked up. We can take things slow if you want. It’s just that journal entry… it made me…” San trailed off towards the end, his own cheeks getting pink now.

Softly, you reached up and ran your fingers through San’s hair, finally offering him a big smile, “Look at you blushing now.”

San blew a bit of air out of his nose, suppressing a shy laugh. “How couldn’t I blush? The thought of you wanting me that way…” He trailed off again, voice high and squeaky now that he was being teased. He pulled you close and buried his face in your neck, letting his lips place a soft kiss before he continued.

“I want to hear you say it, angel. Tell me I’m special and it’s more than just a fantasy. Tell me how you want me,” he mumbled into your neck, using every ounce of self restraint to stop himself from kissing it again.

And, in that moment, months of yearning for, pining over, and wanting San in every way came back to you. Your heart ached a bit, and so did the space between your legs. Everything you had imagined and told yourself was just a dream was coming true. It was true that it would be difficult to hide this whole thing considering Eunbi could read you like a book, but you couldn’t let this opportunity go.

“God, San, I want you in every way possible,” you breathed out, tilting your head back to give him better access to your neck. As soon as you did, he latched on to it, sucking a small bruise into it. You trembled a little, involuntarily letting a tiny whimper cross your lips as you whispered, “But I really need you to fuck me right now.”

“That’s all I need to hear, baby. Here,” he murmured, detaching himself from you quickly. He swiftly switched spots with you, leaving the booth seat and pulling you to the edge of it. He kneeled in front of you, one hand on your thigh and the other gripping the table still. Pushing the table towards the other side of the booth, San ran his hands up and down your thighs, eyes pleading and lust filled. “It’s alright if I taste you?”

“Please, need it so bad, Sannie,” you pleaded as he slowly undid your jeans, pulling them off your legs along with your panties in one fatal swoop. You were already dripping onto the seat and he hadn’t even touched you yet. 

San pressed gentle kisses up your bare thighs, using a thumb to rub gentle circles into your clit. You gripped the top of the seat, already feeling a pulsing need in your heat as San’s mouth inched closer to it. His breath tickled the area, making your squirm, but what was worse was the look in his eyes. He stopped just in front of your cunt and looked up at you with dark, lustful eyes. In that moment, you understood San wanted this just as much as you did.

It was true. San couldn’t even recount the amount of times he pumped his fist in bed or in the shower thinking about you and your sweet pussy. And as much as it made him blush just thinking about it, he wanted nothing more in life than to bury his face in between your thighs some days, making you squirm and hearing what noises he could pull out of you. He wanted to have you, to know you on a deeper level. And what was more intimate than knowing the way a person tastes?

“Pretty,” he murmured into his direct line to heaven, his nose nudging your clit 

gently. A long, hot stripe was licked up your pussy, making you twitch expectantly. Instantly, your mind began to grow foggy and your hips bucked, San whispering, “It’s alright, just relax, baby.”

And so, you did. You let your torso fall all the way back against the booth seat and your fingers tangle in his hair, a soft grunt leaving him as he dove in deeper. His tongue swirled around your entrance, dipping inside every once in a while as a quiet hum vibrated against you. He kept up his agonizingly slow pace on your clit with his thumb, savoring that way you tasted on his tongue.

Soon, though, San needed more of you. He needed to see you squirm more, hear you moan just for him. He pulled you even closer to the edge of the booth, another grunt leaving him as he had to pull his face away for a moment. He hoisted your legs up onto his broad shoulders, instantly attaching his lips to your clit, kissing it softly before sucking it. 

A thick finger found its way inside of you, knuckle deep and wriggling. You squirmed, unable to hold back your noises. Even with just one finger, he filled you up better than you’d ever been before. He added a second finger a moment later, getting familiar with your body inside and out. Scissoring his fingers, he stretched your pussy out, mumbling something about how perfect it was.

“Fuck, San, even your fingers are big,” you slurred, back arching up in the air. San answered with another hum against your pussy, one you could tell was a shy giggle. He curled his fingers, letting his lips pulse around your clit now that he could tell you would finish soon. He slowed his pace down for a second, lifting his head to look up at you.

“You wanna cum? Want Sannie to make you cum?” He asked with a condescending pout, mirroring the one on your own lips. You nodded fervently, but it wasn’t enough for San.

“Gotta hear you say it, angel,” He furthered, eyes darkening as he held back another sly smile. You whined, kicking your legs gently. San tutted, swatting your thigh gently, “Don’t be so stubborn. Just tell Sannie.”

“Please, San, make me cum. Wanna cum all over your tongue,” you relented, hips bucking back up towards San’s face, nudging his chin against your clit. San cooed gently before diving back in. Lapping at your hole, he circled your clit relentlessly with his thumb. He wasn’t going to let you cum anywhere but his tongue.

It didn’t take long for you to do just what you’d asked for. Suddenly, your entire body began to tingle, radiating from the place between your thighs. Your toes curled and your knees tried to squeeze together, locking San’s head in place so that he could lap up every last bit of your essence that was flowing out of you. He made sure he got every last bit, taking his time to lick and kiss every last part of your slick, throbbing cunt.

Eventually, he pried your legs open and helped you sit up, smiling hard at your flushed out face. He swiped his chin with his thumb, bringing it up to his lips before licking off that last bit of you. He sighed, “Could live in that little hole forever, baby.”

You blushed gently, turning away from him shyly, prompting him to sit next to you. He grabbed you by your waist, pulling you onto his lap so your back was flush against his chest. “Hey, you can’t get all shy on me now. Where’s the feisty girl I know, hm?”

“How could I be mean after you just did that to me,” you pouted, making San laugh. 

“You’re always mean to me,” he told you dramatically, grabbing your chin and turning your face towards his. Carefully, he grinded his hips up so that you could feel how hard he was. And he was. Just the taste of you had San throbbing, and the only reason he let you cum so quickly was so that he didn’t cum in his own pants. 

You gasped softly, feeling San’s cock pulsing against your ass, then again when his thick fingers began circling your clit again. He rested his chin on your shoulder, speaking so softly into your ear, “And what’s really mean is how you made me so hard, I almost came from how good you tasted. You wouldn’t leave me like this, right, baby?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and turning around in San’s lap. His hands went straight to your ass, cupping it and pulling you down to grind against the tent in his pants. Your eyebrows furrowed gently as your hips moved back and forth on him, concentrated huffs falling from your tongue.

“Greedy girl,” he teased, nudging your jaw with the side of his head gently, “you want my cock in you?”

You nodded, pouting at him, “Please, San. Need you in me bad.”

San just laughed, guiding your hands to unzip his pants. He lowered his voice, looking down at where your crotches met, “Alright, you can have it. But, you gotta do the work now. You really tired me out there before.”

You whined again, this time out of pure exhilaration. Wasting no time, you unzipped San’s fly, yanking down his pants and boxers as best as you could. His cock sprung out, hard and red, begging you to take it.

But first, you giggled mischievously as you gave it a few pumps, enjoying its weight in your hand. San groaned, throwing his head back and cursing under his breath. It didn’t take long for him to grow impatient. He grabbed your waist and guided you to sit up better, right above his manhood.

You moved your hips around just to antagonize San as he’d done to you so many times. He let out a frustrated groan, burying his face against your neck yet again, kissing it softly as he pleaded, “Cmon, baby, don’t make me crazy here.”

“Wanted this for so long, Sannie,” you breathed out as you finally sunk down on him, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. San chuckled, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I know, baby, read all about it,” he smirked, that smug look on his face melting into a lovesick smile as you swatted at his chest. He couldn’t help but suck another bruise into the side of your neck before chiding, “Just teasing you, been thinkin’ about this for a while, too.”

He rutted up into you, hungry and needy, filling your slick heat completely. Your body twitched with each thrust, languid and deep, San’s silent confession. He was savoring his meal, taking it slowly and enjoying it wholly.

The only sound in the room was that of skin on skin, San’s hips snapping up into yours. He knew just the spot to hit inside of you. You cried out in pleasure, prompting San to speed up. The two of you, hungry and desperate to cum, moved together in a near perfect harmony. 

“Fuck, this pussy was made for me,” San stuttered, trying to keep himself inside you, but it was hard with your bouncing and his thrusts, not to mention the wetness you spilled each time he left your body for a moment. San grunted in your ear, biting down on your shoulder a moment later. He was close. It didn’t help that everytime he thrusted up into you, you let out the sweetest sounds. San wanted to listen to them all the time, but even the thought of doing this again with you made him harder. 

Honestly, his cock kept getting harder with each second it spent inside you. You were so warm, so tight. San was normally a patient man, but it was hard to take his time with you.

You couldn’t be helped either. As soon as he sunk his teeth into you, you came all over him. Wetness poured out of your cunt, coating San as you cried out his name. He followed suit soon afterwards, pulling out and cumming on your thigh. Quickly, San pulled you into a hug, still heaving as a big hand came up to cradle your head. 

For a few minutes, the two of you sat together, your form still tucked into San’s warm embrace as he rocked you back and forth. You both tried to regain your breath, but every little touch made either one of you gasp softly before you turned your head the other way, embarrassingly lovesick. 

San was warm, physically and figuratively. Sweat dripped off his forehead and fell onto yours, but you couldn’t care less if it meant being held by him. It was strong, secure, surreal… it was everything you had written about before. There were days when all you needed was a firm hug, to be held without the fear of falling, somewhere warm and safe. San was all of that, and you could feel it now. It wasn’t just something you wrote about anymore. It was real.

San noticed the face you made when you were thinking and his heart rate picked up. Was it not good? Did he disappoint you? He nudged your head with his shoulder, pouting, “What’s wrong? Was it not good?”

“What? No! It was amazing, I just… I like you a lot. And I like that I don’t have to imagine things anymore… Well, that is if you want to continue this,” you trailed off, blabbering embarrassedly. Maybe all he wanted was a hookup. Uneasiness settled into your features while amusement settled into San’s.

“Silly girl,” he scoffed, enamored by everything you were, “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

Your eyebrows shot up and your heart fluttered. You were never one to get so worked up so easily, but San had a way of making it happen. You cleared your throat, trying to regain some composure.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” you mirrored, acting coy now. San cupped your face, dimples on full display as he smiled at you, meeting your gaze. He leaned in and gave you his first real kiss of the night. Your lips molded together perfectly, San’s tongue swiping across your lower lip occasionally. You felt his warm cheeks against yours, which made you giggle sweetly. San’s heart melted.

The boy pulled away a moment later, letting his forehead rest against yours, “Does that answer your question, baby?”

You snorted in response, shaking your head bashfully. You wanted to hear him say it. San rolled his eyes in response, his hands moving down your back to rest on either side of your ass. Still, he smiled and whispered, “Yes, I want to be your boyfriend.”

You sighed sweetly, unable to hold back the big smile on your face. San delivered a little spank to your ass, playful and teasing, “Happy now?”

You nodded, allowing a little squeal of excitement to leave you. “Very happy, Sannie. Very happy,” you whispered back, laying your head on his shoulder to look around the dark diner. 

Just then, your eyes spotted a little red light up in the corner of the diner, seemingly connected to a security camera. You jumped, whisper yelling at San, “Fuck! Fuck, the cameras, San!”

San jumped as soon as you did, following your gaze up to the security camera. He mirrored your panic for just a moment before pulling you further into the booth, pulling his jacket off to cover up your still bare bottom half. 

And just as you thought you were going to have a heart attack, San laughed, and somehow, the uneasiness melted away. He ruffled your hair playfully, moving you off his lap and onto the seat before zipping his pants back up. He stood up, leaning down to your level, “I'll go take care of it, honey. Just clean up and get dressed. And finish your shake,” he told you, motioning to the table where your half empty, half melted chocolate shake sat.

But as soon as he turned around, he turned back and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before scurrying off to the office, ready to delete the footage. You couldn’t help but smile knowing San would take care of it. What a dream boy.

[rollingeevee]

I gotta ask: do you know when exactly the beasts would bite their respective darlings? Like do they just capture them and then *chomp*? Also do the bites have an immediate effect or do the darlings not figure out what's up with the bite until they first try to run away?

Silly little but:

Darling, after getting bit: Freak!!

Darling, after the bite takes effect: Oh shit, that's why you were being freaky...

Hmm… that’s a good question! I feel it would vary for each Beast.

Shadow Milk and Burning Spice I can see doing it ASAP. They see it, they like it, they want it. That bite is happening as soon as they have their darling in their grasp, first chance they get. They don’t care what their darling thinks.

Eternal Sugar I can see somewhat similar, but I feel she would try to kinda play it off? When she takes her darling, she’ll likely try to ease them into a false sense of security. She’s offering you sweets and wants to nap with you? She can’t be that bad, can she? However, she might grow a bit impatient. When you’re napping together, that’s when she bites.

For Mystic Flour and Silent Salt, I can see them using their bites as a last resort. The two of them aren’t as eager to place down their bites unless another Beast is showing interest in what is theirs. However, as soon as they find you after you escape the first time? That’s when they bite. You got close to getting away. They didn’t like that. They gave you a chance, and you squandered it. Now they’re going to ensure you know exactly where you belong. With them.

Also, side note, I got this ask right before I fell asleep so the notif on my phone showed only the first few words and my tired brain read it as “where” instead of “when” and it got my mind going a lil before I passed out so- you’re getting that too! LMAO

Shadow Milk would place his bite on the neck, right below the ear. Sort of symbolic in a way. While his magic can reach your mind from wherever the bite might be, he likes the thought that it’s there, as if he’s always whispering sweet Deceit into your ear.

Mystic Flour would place her bite on your inner wrist. She cares the least about where her bite goes, so long as it is on you. Holding your hand to her lips, placing a gentle kiss, before suddenly jerking your hand, exposing your inner wrist, and sinking her teeth in.

Burning Spice’s bite is right on the neck in full view of everyone. He’s not a subtle guy, probs the most straightforward of the five. He’s loud and proud, and his bite would be the same. Right over your jugular where everyone can see it. There’s no hiding it. In a way, it’s also a powerplay. He could easily tear your throat out if he so desired. But he didn’t. Be grateful, little rabbit~

Eternal Sugar would place her bite on her darling’s chest, right above where your heart is. As stated above, she places it when you’re napping together. She’s draped on top of you, using your chest as her pillow. The moment her patience runs out, she’ll pull your shirt down just enough to expose the area she seeks and bite down.

Silent Salt’s bite is right above the area between your two collarbones below your throat. Centered between your lungs and your vocal cords. While, again, a bite’s placement doesn’t change its effects, they like the symbolism. The thought of stealing your voice, plunging you into silence.

Thank you for sending in an ask! Hope you liked the answer I gave!

[ashwhowrites]

Would you be able to do a mild angsty fic with Steve where he’s self conscious about how hairy his chest is? He’s dating reader but she hasn’t seen him with his shirt off yet and one day maybe someone makes a joke (cuz Steve hasn’t told anyone he’s insecure about it) and reader is like ?? And they’re like oh have you not seen yet? And Steve is awkward and embarrassed for the rest of the day and reader notices. So after they’re alone she asks to see and just kinda runs her hand through it and cuddles into his chest and talks about how sexy she thinks it is and makes him feel good?

I love your stuff so much. Thank you!🙏

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Ladies dig it

Y/N felt like her relationship with Steve was going incredibly well. The connection and attraction were there, stronger than either had felt before. But there was one thing Y/N felt insecure about and she felt silly about it. She hasn't seen Steve without a shirt, like ever. She was worried he was hiding an offensive tattoo or something worse. At first, she thought he wanted to take it slow and she was fine with that. But now they are coming up on three months and nothing. It wasn't like they had to have sex, but at least move forward.

She wasn't going to bring it up, she didn't want to embarrass him. And she was going to let it go and continue to wait. But last night was the final straw.

~

"And Lucas asked, "When did he get so hairy?" And I was like "Right?.....but he says the ladies dig it." Dustin said, telling the story of Max stealing a look at Steve's hairy chest. Y/N felt ridiculous to be jealous of a teenage girl but why the hell was Steve shirtless in front of her?

The gang laughed, except for the couple. Steve felt his cheeks flush red when Y/N stiffened. Dustin noticed the weird look on Y/N's face like she didn't understand the joke.

"Get it? Because we all tell Steve he needs to tame his chest hair!" Dustin explained the joke, leading the group into a fit of laughs.

Y/N, feeling a little annoyed, turned to look at him. Shrugging she teased, "I don't get it because someone won't show me." Steve stared at her with his jaw dropped. He awkwardly laughed and lowered his voice.

"You know me, just wanna go slow."

Y/N accepted the answer, giving him a small kiss. He smiled and pressed his lips against hers. "You're worth the wait."

She was going to leave it alone, but then Dustin spilled the beans that everyone had seen Steve's chest. So why was he only private with her?

Y/N left it alone, figuring it should be a conversation to have in private. As they hung out with the rest of the gang, she noticed how anxious Steve was. He fumbled his words, leg bouncing, and spaced out.

~

Y/N waited for Steve to wake up in the morning before she began questioning. He was half awake when he noticed her sitting next to him with coffee in her hand.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked, his deep morning voice made her shiver. She smiled and pushed back his fluffy hair.

"What happened yesterday? After Dustin's stories about your chest, you got all nervous and awkward. Why don't you want me to see your chest?"

Steve sighed and sat up, looking over at her with puppy eyes. "It's stupid."

She scoffed and waved his comment off, moving closer to cuddle his body as she sat down her coffee on his nightstand. "It is not stupid. Talk to me."

"When I was with other girls I always had a naked chest. And I was single for a good amount of time before I met you so I let the hair grow. I feel better with it but my friends make it seem like it is a bad thing. So now I'm insecure about it." Steve explained, not able to look into his girlfriend's eyes.

"Can I see?" she asked, unable to hold back her smile. Thinking about his chest made her feel warm and excited.

Steve seemed conflicted as she moved to straddle his lap. "I promise you, I'll give you nothing to feel insecure about." The seductive look on her face made Steve less worried. Steve nodded and pulled his shirt over his head.

Steve's ears perked up when Y/N let out a small moan as her eyes took in his hairy chest. There was lust swimming in her eyes and Steve couldn't help but harden underneath her.

"You were right," she smiled, leaning in to speak against his lips. "The ladies dig it." Steve chuckled and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss started getting hot and heavy, making him wish he had shown her sooner.

She pulled away and Steve couldn't help but chase her lips. "May I?" she asked, her hands ghosting over his chest. Steve nodded, holding his breath.

Y/N looked at her hands, teasing Steve as she trailed her nails through the hair. She ran the rest of her hands through, loving the way his body shuttered.

"Feel nice, Stevie boy?" she looked up at him with a smirk. His face was flushed red and he licked his lips.

"Yeah, really nice," Steve whispered. She continued to run her hands through it, obsessed with the way it felt.

"You are incredibly sexy. And so manly," she purred. "Can I show you how much I like it?" She asked, slowly moving off of his lap. Steve watched as she moved down to his legs, hands hovering over his sweatpants.

"Oh god, please," he whined, heart racing as her hands slipped under his sweats.

[katskitoshi]

"MY TYPE IS..." with TWISTED WONDERLAND

synopsis: you respond to a "what's your type?" question with his name. how does he react?

characters: riddle, trey, cater, ace, & deuce x gn! painfully blunt! reader

includes: cursing, non-explicit makeout mention,

heartslabyul(here), savanaclaw+octavinelle, scarabia+pomefiore, ignihyde+disomania.

grim, as always, was nagging you with questions in front of your crush and group of friends. they're all left to their own devices until grim asks, "what's your type?" and the attention of your crush falls on you for your answer.

riddle rosehearts, dorm leader of heartslabyul.

"my ideal type? well, he's red-haired, with grey eyes, whose short and just happens to be the dorm leader of heartslabyul!"

the "ideal crush" in question was as red as his hair. he almost spits his tea out.

you practically confessed to riddle! or at least told him he's the type you're looking for.

riddle looks at you like you've gone mad, not even realizing he's been actively staring at you.

"[name], are you serious?" he questions, calming himself down. you look at him confused.

"why wouldn't i be serious? was my clear description of you, riddle rosehearts, my crush, not enough?"

he still looks at you confused. riddle fully understands, it's just.. you're being so straightforward about it! he can't handle how blunt you're being with your advances.

you sigh, "since you still aren't understanding, i like you riddle. is that clear enough?"

"no, i am not as red as my hair! ugh, yes, [name]. i understood just well. it just took me a while to get used to how blunt you were. but, i guess i could say you're my ideal type too. and i guess i like you too."

trey clover, vice dorm leader of heartslabyul.

"my type's obviously a green-haired, amber-eyes, glasses-wearing, hot baker with a clover on his cheek."

doth trey's ears deceive him? you obviously just described him. he has green hair, yellow eyes, glasses, and a clover on his cheek. plus, he's a baker!

trey doesn't even realize he's stared at you, the tart he made long forgotten on his plate.

you stare at him like you didn't just say he was your type. "um, [name]?" "yeah?"

trey looks at you, takes a deep breath and asks, "do you like me?"

"of course i do, silly! i wouldn't have described you as my type if i didn't."

trey takes a deep breath once again. thank the great seven.

"oh thank goodness. i liked you too but i didn't really know how to approach it. i was gonna make you a (favorite dessert) with "will you be mine?" on it, but i guess i don't have to anymore. oh? i should still do it? well, i guess you'll just have to come over to heartslabyul tonight for a surprise, dear."

cater diamond, heartslabyul third year.

"do you even have eyes? my type is this really cute guy with orange hair, green eyes, a red diamond on his face, a heartslabyul third year and magicam influencer! aka, the hottest guy in the world!"

he squeals. cater lets out a loud, high-pitched, squeal that would be associated with preppy high school girls in movies. people would have noticed if it wasn't for the already loud cafeteria.

he moves to the seat next to you, holding you by your waist.

"[name], do you really like me?" the smile on his face blinds you, but you can see he has a hint of worry in his green eyes. imagine how disappointed he'd be if you were to like some other heartslabyul guy that looked exactly like him.

you lean in, hooking a arm around his neck and using your hand to push his head into your lips. your lips kiss him and you can taste his lime tart and cherry chapstick.

"is.. is that enough to prove to you that i love you?" you pant after the kiss, looking at cater's reddened face.

"haha! that was more than enough, but how about you prove to me how much you love me a bit more, cutie?"

(you guys make out and have to be forcefully separated becuase the friend group does NOT approve of the pda.)

ace trappola, heartslabyul first year.

"okay, so he's a fucking pain in the ass and a stupid idiot but i love him, y'know? his orange-red hair and the stupid heart on his face and that silly grin his makes when he does something dumb like breaking riddles rules or messes up a potion or something.. he may be a fucking dumbass but he's a dumbass i have a crush on."

first of all, ouch.

he's not a pain in the ass or a stupid idiot! and his heart isn't stupid and his grin isn't silly- wait, did you say you have a crush on him?

ace is flattered, but that would never ever stop him from being a little shit about it.

i mean, you called him a stupid idiot you love, right? so that means that he can be a dumbass and you'll still forgive him, right? of course you will, he thinks.

"[nickname]~ you have a crush on me? aww, you're too cute! of course you'd like me, i'm hot, i have a cute grin,-- what! i'm not an idiot!"

deuce spade, heartslabyul first year.

"what a silly question! anyways, my type is tall, blue-haired, and a real cutie! he has this cute little spade on his face but hes kinda dumb. i love it about him though! the pout on his face he gets when he's confused is adorable!"

queue cute, confused deuce.

"aw look, he's doing the little confusion pout right now! ah, i have the biggest crush on him!" you gush, and the color drains from his face before it comes back as a vibrant red blush.

he bangs his head on the table, making a cute whimpering noise.

when he finally looks up, still blushing, he's met with your smile and almost topples over. you're gonna give him a heart attack!

"don't embarrass me like that! ugh, but since we're on the matter, y-yeah i like you, too."

[bunnwich]

Same anon about the Leona bf Hcs....I'm also curious, do you have any ICKS when it comes to how people portray Leona romantically? plspls, I wanna get controversial.

My Leona Boyfriend HC Icks

(This is subjective, but you asked! Idk why I wanted to answer this ask before your other one… I guess I felt some type of way. It's a bit more ranty/bitchy so be forewarned. I’ve been in the fandom since the ENG release, so I've seen a lot of stuff that personally icks me. Dw I’ll get to your other ask!!)

Btw, I know some ppl won't like some of these opinions, but it's just my personal preferences at the end of the day! Friendly reminder: I am not the authority on Leona Kingscholar nor do I claim to be!!!

STINKY (But not metaphorically)

Why? He is an athlete and a prince? All the athletes I know bathe MORE than other ppl bc they get sweaty.  Besides…we all have bad hygiene when we aren't doing well mentally? So, this HC at best is just gross, and at WORST is offensive.  Also, just a question for ppl who do STILL this: Why would you WANT him to stink??? I never understood this mindset, even if he WAS that lazy. I simply wouldn’t wanna HC that he stinks. I love myself. GFBHNJM (Idia seems to get this stinky boy treatment too WHYY??? Sorry, I choose to believe my man smells good.)

HERBIVORE. (The H-Word)

I think where people lose me fast in Leona fics is hitting me over the head with the word “herbivore.” Honestly…he doesn't use the word as much as people think?? And I don’t think he would call his S/O at all. I find it mean? Because of the Japanese context of this word, and just the literal meaning. I think of it as more akin to the word “whimp” or “weakling.” It's not…cute to me? He doesn’t even use it for the MC later in the game as much. So, unless you're a lion beastman or fellow carnivore, I’d expect prey nicknames. Kitten, mouse, bird, bunny, etc. He even likens the MC to a “kitten” in a few voicelines. Just makes more sense to me, idk. Think of the silly nicknames he has for the canon cast. That or you know…he’d just use your name.

BRUTE BOYFRIEND

He's rude, sure. But no…Leona is NOT beating anyone up for looking/flirting with you. Would he be annoyed, maybe even secretly furious? Sure. But, he's not a “brute strength" kinda guy who uses his fists. (It’s almost like it's his main battle line!) If someone truly hurt you or did something off-color, he’d probably send someone else to do the dirty work to intimidate or deal with them.  In a real fight, OFC he'd defend you, but fighting cause some guy winked at you? NO. I don’t personally believe so. He’s a grown man with high intelligence, so I think high school like beef would be a bit beneath him?? At least he'd have one of his goons go do it.

ALOOF BOYFRIEND

I think where a lot of ppl lose me is the “aloof/stoic” bf thing.  No doubt he would keep his distance at the first instance of catching feelings because he doesn't wanna be hurt. At first, he’s only batting at you to gauge how you feel for him. But if he becomes seriously interested, and then you begin dating, I just don’t believe he would care what other people think. Or try to downplay your relationship. He’d wait for you to make the first real move, sure…but YOU’D KNOW. I just think about how he acted toward Sally in the last Halloween event and how he was almost “uncharacteristically” sweet to her. I think because Leona isn't super close to anyone in NRC—beyond a few of his frosh or respect-based relationships (like he has with Vil), we don’t see this side of him often, and so it comes as a shock.  Without spoiling anything, let’s just say…he was VERY unbothered at everyone's reaction to his soft side. He was focused on Sally and being nice to her. And if we apply this to “bf status Leona,” I think he’d be too focused on YOU to worry about what other ppl think of him. I’ve been preaching for years that this part of him always existed, and that now he just chooses who sees it. He saves his softness for very specific people he deems worthy of his time. Period. You’ll have to play a bit of a game to get on his good side, but like the motto of Savanaclaw: PERSISTENTLY proving to Leona that you care for him despite his flaws, he’ll come around. And when you're together, well- (I'll save that for the other ask) Especially if you are in an established relationship. He clearly thinks the world of you. He doesn’t have many close relationships, so you think he’s wasting his time with someone he wouldn’t even bother to be nice to??? Besides, Leona later in the main story becomes quite self-aware of his inability to reach out to others, despite craving affection desperately. He knows it's his blind spot, SO he's putting effort into being a good bf to you!

HE'S 20 (45)

To further my above point, I think people forget he is a few years older than even the other 3 years, and…was raised by an old man? I think when ppl write him with low emotional maturity...it loses me. I get it, he's a brat. And often he CHOOSES to act like a petulant prince when it suits him. But, I think deep down esp in more serious situations, we’ve seen that he's wise, calm, and level-headed. Just some nuance, please.

“USING YOU AS A PILLOW”

Napping/cuddling together is no doubt one of the nicest things you can do with a partner. And I’ve even implemented this kinda thing in my writing. HOWEVER, there is a certain flavor of this I dislike. Esp when it’s “forced” on the reader/OC. Sometimes I find this is ALL ppl write about him in those HC posts, esp ones that aren’t Leona focused. That or “Leona dragging you off to be his pillow.”  (A bit of my life is taken every time I read this sentence now…) I know there are new folks coming into the fandom who may repeat old tropes, and that's fine! But, I STILL see this from people who have been here for yearssssssss. It's just cliche to me. I do believe he's a cuddly guy, EXTREMELY SO. It's just that specific phrase that icks me. Maybe it’s the implication that he does it against your will and is aggressive about it?? Just, no thanks.

"I CAN FIX HIM”

Okay maybe now we’re getting into the more controversial ones?? I think the idea of “tru wuv” fixing someone’s flaws is just unappealing as a concept to me and completely against what I think love is about. The “dragging him to class”, “making him dress up more,” or “forcing him to get along with his family” is not something I think he’d put up with. He’s grown, he's extremely stubborn, he knows he’s failing school. He doesn't need another person to nag him! Ruggie already does that! Plus, family relations are complicated. Idk…if someone I started dating tried to get me to talk with a family member who I felt genuinely hurt/neglected me, I’d be annoyed af??   I think he would find it all patronizing coming from a romantic partner. It's one thing if he chooses to be better himself or for his mental health to improve gradually, but forcing things on him and “nagging” him constantly about his behavior at school and at home is just what his family does so- He's flawed, VERY MUCH SO. But, I think when it comes to relationships…everyone has flaws they deal with easier in a partner than others. Like you can maybe deal better with someone being socially awkward, but can't stand your S/O having a messy room. Like if your “hard nos” are lazy people, your S/O dressing “sloppy,” or someone who can be petty and rude to others- Well, you get my point.  It's like....if you hate playing video games and wanna ship with Idia. My question is why?? I’m genuinely curious why you even like this character in the first place?? Hot take, (I guess) this is the reason I don't really ship LeoVil. It just rubs me the wrong way how it turns Leona into a “fix me” project thing. And not to mention how Vil talks to Leona canonically in a demeaning way. (I love you Vil, but you’re wrong.) Leona needs a kick in the ass for sure, all the twst boys do, but personally when a fic/ship leans too heavy on the dynamic of “I can fix/change him” it turns me off. As someone who's been in a long-term relationship… if your day-to-day lifestyles don’t align when living together…ya’ll are gonna be at each other's throats over the small stuff. That’s just how it works irl. And...I understand if everyone doesn't want to apply this logic to fictional ships.  I just personally am not fond of this dynamic. And with Leona being a beastman AND a POC, it often feels like a loaded trope to apply to him.

DISPOSABLE LION BOYFRIEND

Last one! (Maybe most controversial idk) I just think Leona is not good at being a romance rival, (assuming we're not talking about poly situation) despite him being competitive. While ofc I think it's possible for an MC or OC to have multiple crushes and things, I think Leona is someone who wouldn’t handle this well? Like, if Leona feels like he’s gotta compete for scraps of your attention, at a certain point...I'd think he’d just give up, or at least give you your space to come to him. He’s had to compete for attention his whole life, and I feel like he's too emotionally mature and ego-driven to put up with these kinds of games for too long? I DO think it's interesting to explore the dynamic of having multiple love interests!! I even do it for a lil drama! But…in gen I don’t prefer when it feels like Leona is just there to be the "the disposable love interest" considering all of his insecurities of being second. Honestly, in that case, I can see him giving an ultimatum? He's a grown man among...mostly teens, I PERSONALLY just can't see him being a love rival with a child. FGHJK

Anyways, I could go one. that's all I can think of for now!

AGAIN I WANNA STRESS THAT THESE ARE MY ICKS. And if you don’t agree or do any of these, that's okay! Everyone can play dolls how they choose, I’m not the HC or character police. ✌️✌️✌️

[tallulah477]

Prove To You

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Yandere!Neteyam, ***NON-CON***, Dub-con, Predator/Prey Kink, Chasing, Obsessive/Possessive Behavior, Oral (female receiving), Edging/Orgasm Delay, P in V, Knotting, Size Difference, Fingering, Slight Degradation (use of 'whore'), Belly Bulge, Lapdance (kinda), Creampie, Alien Genitalia, Squirting, A Few Ass Slaps, Mentions of drinking and being tipsy/drunk, Brief Violence/Violent Thoughts (not towards reader), Brief mention of pregnancy, Threat of cutting off another's kuru/neural queue, Thoughts of killing/murder, One (1) non-sexual face slap (reader slaps Neteyam)

Word Count: 9.7K 💀

A/N: Hiiiii it's been a while 🤷🏻‍♀️

Summary: It was only ever supposed to be a hookup, something fun to pass the time. But to Neteyam, it was so much more than that. He's in love with you, obsessed with you - his perfect little mate. But he doesn't know why you keep running away.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Yawne - Beloved

Tìyawn - Love

Tweng - Loincloth

Tawtute - Human

Kuru - Neural Queue

Tsaheylu - Bond, Neural Connection

Swoasey - kava bowl (constructed from seed pods, used for drinking intoxicating beverages)

Kaltxì - Hello

Pxir - Beer

Tsahìk - Spiritual Leader / Healer

Skxawng - Moron / Idiot

Iknimaya - Rite of Passage

Oel Ngati Kameie - I See You

Tanhì - Star

Muntxate - Wife, Female Spouse

Mawey - Calm

He’d only wanted to kiss you. To feel your soft lips pressed against his again. 

It had been so long since he’d gotten to feel them. The mask you have to wear is always a frustrating obstacle. He begs from time to time for you to pull it off, just for a moment, so he can press his warm lips to yours, taste your tongue on his just for a few blissful seconds before the lack of air catches up with you and you have to replace it.

You always say no, always push his hand away from where he has it cupped lovingly around the side of your head, but it never stops him from asking. 

You’re not wearing a mask now though. Instead, a long tube spans one side of your face, curling around your ear and stretching across your cheek before the very end of it forks off into your nostrils. At first glance he panicked, terrified of the thought of you out in the dangerous Pandora environment as a human without your only source of oxygen. It’s silly. He knows that you could have never made it to the village from the lab without some way of breathing. But he can’t help how he reacts, needing to be sure, needing to know that you’re okay. 

He’s at your side in an instant, kneeling in front of your tiny frame, large hands engulfing your head as his eyes searched your face in concern. You smack his hand away, answering his concerned questions of “Ma yawne, what is going on? Are you okay?” with a short “Fine. It’s the new tech the lab guys made,”

He calms, anxiety slipping from his body now that he knows you’re still safe. His eyes flicker over your face, a small smile pulling at his lips as he takes in all your beautiful features in front of him. You’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, he’s always thought that, ever since the very first moment he met you all those years ago. But now here, without the thick layer of glass covering your face, it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. 

“You’re so pretty, tìyawn,” He whispers, fingers unconsciously reaching out again to brush against your cheek. It’s finally accessible, bare and soft under his fingertips before the dull sting of another slap knocks his hand away. 

You don’t like public displays of affection. 

Or, at least, now you don’t. 

You used to not mind it. Back before that night in front of the fire, you would touch him all the time - sweet and gentle touches when you were talking, so tactile in your interactions with him. A quick squeeze to his knee whenever he was able to make you laugh, friendly half hugs as greetings that would make his heart pound in his chest every single time, your intoxicating scent filling his lungs and suffocating him in the best way. 

He’d keep his nose buried in your neck, breathing you in until you were all he could smell or think about for the rest of eternity if he could. 

He used to carry you places when you would tag along on fun adventures with him and his siblings. Excitement coursed through him every time you agreed to join them, tail swishing eagerly behind him because he knew that eventually you would get tired from walking and allow him to carry you on his back. You like to talk, prattling on about whatever was going on at the lab or a fun new piece of tech that Norm and the others were working on. Sometimes you’d talk about the current drama - someone said you talked too much, were too abrasive, but that you thought that they personally needed to grow a backbone. He’d listen to whatever you had to say - soaking up your voice like the most melodic song and committing every detail you provide him to memory. 

But your voice has a physical response on him. But the horrified looks his siblings would send him when they would see the tent in his tewng from where his hard cock had slipped out of its sheath was always well worth the embarrassment. The feeling of your soft skin on his - arms wrapping around his neck for balance, his hands completely engulfing your warm thighs from where they wrapped tightly around his torso as far as they could. He’s spent many nights imagining them wrapped around his waist from the front instead.

You didn’t mind public displays of affection when you drank an entire swoasey of pxir and danced in front of him by the fire. The celebration had wound down, the clan members satisfied in celebrating the induction of The People who had passed their Iknimaya just a few hours ago. Only a few younger adults who seemed to have the same idea as you remained now, each couple splintering off to different parts of the campground to get their much needed privacy. Even Lo’ak has moved away, enamored by the pretty girl sitting on his lap, uncaring about the way his hands slide down to cup her ass and pull her closer. 

The fading glow of yellows and oranges look amazing against your skin, the steady crackle of the fire like a song all on its own as your hips move to the music only your own head and nature provides. Neteyam’s eyes are wide, excitement coursing through his veins as he watches your hips sway. You sway too, your body a bit unsteady from the drink still in your hand, but mostly it's your hips - the sensual swish back and forth, beads from your tewng (a gift from Kiri he suspects) clank together against each other and your thighs. Your pretty thighs, so soft he wants to wrap his entire hand around them, spread them open for him and see you like he’s always dreamed of. You’d be so wet, so sticky and drenched for him that he’d be able to just slide right in. You were made for him. Made to take him. He’d fit between your thighs so perfectly despite your size difference, he knows he would. 

His breath catches in his throat when you dance closer, small body seductive in the way it calls to him with your movements. You toss the swoasey to the side, the little liquid that was left pouring out and soaking into the ground beside you. Your hands find their way to his bent knees, heat filled eyes never leaving his as you push his legs apart so you can stand between them, searing him with their intensity even from behind the glass of your mask.

Your hands slide up his legs, tiny fingers creeping up the insides of his thighs and he can’t help the audible gulp that escapes him when he feels his cock nudge against his already wet slit, threatening to poke out at any moment. 

Great Mother, you’re so gorgeous. The most beautiful woman Eywa has ever created. You must have been created by her - no other god or goddess or being could ever have made anything more perfect and irresistible than Eywa herself. 

Surely, the Great Mother has made you for him. Just for him. 

“Why so nervous, Teyam?” You giggle, leaning up as far as you can towards his face while still keeping your teasing hands on his thighs, dangerously close to the now bulging fabric. “Tawtute got your tongue?”

“I–um–” He chokes out. He can’t breath, can’t breath with you so fucking close to him. He wants you so badly, wants to touch you so badly he feels like he might die if he doesn’t.

And then you're turning in the cage of his open thighs, back pressing against his front as you grab his shaking hand. There’s a satisfied smirk on your face as you drag his arm around you, the large appendage spanning your entire chest as he sprawls his fingers out across your front. His fingertips automatically curl around the curve of your breast while his palm caresses the other through your beaded top, his body subconsciously reacting to your own guidance. 

His heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might explode in his chest, breathing labored as his hard cock digs into your back.

“You can touch me,” You whisper, but his ears flick at your words and catch them loud and clear. “Want you to play with me.”

“Ha-fuck,” He groans, mouth falling open in silent awe as your top shifts underneath his hand and his finger grazes your hard nipple. Without thinking his hand squeezes your chest, gently but firm enough for you to gasp as he greedily gropes both breasts at once. 

He can smell you now, the mind dizzying scent of your arousal filling the air around you both as you gasp and giggle excitedly at his sudden action, both of your tiny hands reaching up to grip at his big one as you press him tighter against you. 

“Come on, Teyam,” You moan, moan, and he’s not even touching you yet. You turn your head to look at him, craning your neck as you stare up at him with wide, lust filled eyes. “Have some fun with me.”

That night he spent with you under the hypnotic glow of the fire will be forever burned into his mind. Every detail, every moan, every sigh, every praise and whine and plea spilling from your lips as he made love to you for the very first time is kept under the sacred lock and key of his heart - a memory he saved with Eywa back at the Spirit Tree the morning after so that he would never have the possibility of forgetting. 

The memory of your gasp as he pushed you down, beads flying across the mossy ground as he tore your clothes off like an animal and how the roughness of it all made your arousal even stronger. His eyes greedy as they took in their fill of your beautiful body splayed out in front of him like a prize before he covered you with his own. Your fingers teased along his bullet wound scar, tracing the raised line with careful fingers, and he thinks that maybe your loving touch will be enough to fully heal it. 

The place between your thighs feels like home, your tiny pussy swallowing him up and holding him close like the most perfect combination of love and safety. Your voice ringing in his ears, sweet and sensual as you whimper and moan telling him faster, Teyam, fuck me harder, oh god, and he whines in return, cock throbbing and embarrassingly close to bursting so fast already, and sending up thanks and prayers to the Great Mother for granting him this amazing moment with you.

It’s the blending of two hearts, two souls made for each other and coming together as one in a bond so powerful that no one can ever break it. It doesn’t matter that you don’t have a kuru, Neteyam can feel you in himself anyway - can feel you wrapping your tiny fingers around his brain and heart and very being, solidifying your bond together without the need for tsaheylu. 

And when you pull your mask off, holding your breath as the hiss of air escapes from the broken seal around your face - he can’t breathe either. The feel of your lips on his, soft and demanding as you kiss him passionately as he fucks you on the forest floor, makes him see stars.

He’s not sure where the change of behavior came from. One day you were affectionate, touchy and giving with your love, surrounding him with your scent and embrace, pussy wrapped around his cock in a hug so tight he thought you might never let go. He wouldn’t mind that, being buried in your heat forever, warm and loved until the day he dies. But the next morning the walls came up, the attitude started, and when he had gone to greet you with a blinding smile and an adoring ‘kaltxì, yawne,’ on his lips as he bent to kiss your cheek, you pulled back and pressed a firm hand against his belly to push him away. 

He thought that your coldness was nerves, just a reaction a human might have to the new soul bond you’ve experienced. Humans don’t mate for life like the Na’vi do, but you’re special, you’re his, and Eywa has blessed your union and made it so even though it should not be possible. Maybe you just don’t know how to handle it. It’s okay, he can be the patient and supportive mate you need.

But the coldness and hostility doesn’t stop, the days go by and the passage of time doesn’t make you calm down. You don’t throw your arms around him like he wants you to, don’t say those three words he longs to hear fall from your lips said with all the love and trust that you have in your little tawtute body. 

Instead, there’s almost anger, a sudden indifference that he can’t seem to place. Had he done something wrong? He doesn’t think so. So, he tries to do the best he can, be the best mate he can be for you during your obvious time of struggle. He’s always there for you, will always be there for you, providing support and bringing you fresh meat, dicing up your favorite fruits and making you pretty jewelry that he knows will look so beautiful on you if you ever just wear it. 

You don’t. You toss the jewelry to the side like it's nothing, you let the food rot exactly where he’s left it.  

You’re not a Na’vi, you don’t understand the implication of your crassness towards his gifts. You don’t see how your refusals break his heart. It’s okay - you’ll learn. Humans are . . . unusual creatures. It will just take a bit more time for you to warm up to the ways of The People.

But his optimism stings with each slight, each indifference you show towards him. Great Mother, you’re so mean to him. Always trying to run from him when he grabs at you, ripping your hand away from his whenever he tries to hold it. You’ve been hiding from him, your trips into the village getting less and less frequent and you don’t let him in when he tries to come to the lab to visit you. 

“You don’t even like being here,” You say when he tries. And you’re right. The stuffiness of the lab makes him tense, and it feels like he can sometimes feel the energy from the machines pressing up against his body. But when he’s with you he doesn’t care. You’re the only thing that matters to him, and when he’s with you, it’s like everything else just falls away. 

The sting from your smack is still on his hand, but he shakes it off as he reaches out to caress your arm instead. “Ma yawne, are you hungry? You should come to my hut. I’ll cook you a fi–”

“No,” You interrupt, shrugging him off of your arm. “I’m not hungry.”

“Oh,” He breathes, disappointment burrowing in his chest but he tries not to let it show even as his fingers reach out to graze against your wrist. “Well then maybe we can go on a walk? There’s a lake not too far from here that I’ve been wanting to show you. It’s beautiful.” Beautiful like you. “I know you’ll love it.”

“No, Neteyam,” You say again, pulling your wrist from his wandering fingers and crossing your arms across your chest. “I’m busy.”

“What are you doing? Maybe I could–”

“No,”

The clipped word rings in his ears. No, no, no, always no. He’s your mate, you shouldn’t have to tell him no. Where you go, he goes. Where he goes, you go. Together. Simple as that. And yet it’s still always no, no, no. You’re turning away from him without another word, walking away with strides he thinks are way too quick for a human, and he can’t help but wonder where you’re heading to in such a rush. 

“Okay,” He calls out, desperate for the conversation not to be over but knowing it will just upset you if he follows you. “I’ll come see you later, tìyawn. I swear it!”

You don’t even look back.

He hasn’t seen you in nearly a week and his patience is running thin. 

Your absence is killing him. 

Where are you? Why won’t you see him? He knows you have to be suffering too without him. Mated pairs aren’t meant to be without each other for so long and he feels like he’s been apart from you for an eternity. 

You stopped coming to the village. He’s been looking, desperately hoping that he’ll see you among the multitude of faces he sees every day. He wants to hear your voice so badly, wants to pull you into his arms and hold you there, safe and loved, while the warmth of your skin soaks into his. 

He wants to push you down again, cover you with his body as he presses you into his sleeping mat - your sleeping mat. Both of yours, together, the way it should be as he plows into your swollen cunt. His hut should be covered in your scent by now, not an inch of it left without your mark on it. 

It’s not, and his understanding for your trouble adjusting to the bond is quickly dissipating. 

He’s tried to come see you at the lab multiple times. A lot. Every day. The lab guys turn him away.

She’s busy. She’s sleeping. She’s too tired. She’s not feeling too well. 

If you're not feeling well, he should be in there to heal you. Give you comfort when you're at your weakest and motivation to get better. So he can keep an eye on you and make sure you’re safe. If you’re tired, let him in so he can wrap his arms around you. His chest is sure to be a better pillow for you than any other one you would be laying on. He would be warm, chest moving with just the perfect amount of rise and fall to lull you into a restful sleep. Your beauty sleep - not that you need it. And if you’re busy . . . what’s the harm in him just being around you? He won’t bother you, but any time just existing in the same space as you is like a dream come true. 

He tries to be nice, tries to be a good person - these are his father’s friends, allies of the Omatikaya - and he’s never been one to act impulsively. But they are keeping you from him. You are his. His mate. 

By the looks on their faces, they know how lucky they are that they got away with only some vicious snarls and a pushed over lab desk. Keeping away someone’s mate should be punishable by death.

At least, that’s how Neteyam feels right about now.

He doesn’t like being angry, hates the disgusting feeling that he feels clawing relentlessly at his chest. But he’s frustrated and heartbroken at your self inflicted absence and the warriors he’s training are his unfortunate victims. He pushes them hard, way harder than he probably should. Two of them have already had to go see the Tsahìk for their injuries and most of them look just about ready to drop from exertion. The anger he lets out on them doesn’t seem to quell any of the feelings still boiling inside him.

But then he sees you and it’s like time stops. The anger and frustration flee his body in a rush of relief. You’re here. 

You’re hiding behind a tree just along the edge of the clearing. Why are you hiding? Maybe you’re trying to surprise him, stay out of sight until he’s done training so as to not distract him with your beauty. You would have. You’ve told him plenty of times that he has a staring problem. But he can’t help it. You’re just so breathtaking that he can’t help but want to stare at you all the time. You’re what he imagines Eywa incarnate to look like - a beauty so alluring and otherworldly that he just can’t bear to tear his eyes away. 

The training session is just about done. He releases a majority of the warriors for the day and there’s only a few stragglers that need a few minutes of one-on-one training before he can send them on their way too. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying to them, letting muscle memory and repetition help him drag these last few minutes along as quickly as possible before he’s able to run over to you. He’s already decided that he’s going to take you out tonight. A date night, just like his father and mother have. It’s a time where you both can get away from the hustle and bustle of village and lab life and just be with each other. You clearly need it and he’s so desperate to spend time with you that he’s just about ready to kidnap you from your duties just so he can get a moment of peace just to stare at your gorgeous, unmasked face more. 

Maybe do some other stuff too. Hopefully. 

His heart hasn’t been the only needy thing of his without you. 

The last warrior he’s with is really pushing his luck. How hard is it to switch a knife from a bladed upward position to a downward facing position with just one hand? It’s a simple wrist movement to perfect a move that might save your life one day and this skxawng keeps. dropping. the. knife. Neteyam’s seemingly endless patience is gone. He dismisses the warrior, words much too harsh to be considered professional but he doesn’t care. His mate is waiting for him and he doesn’t want to waste any more time. 

He turns back to head to where you are, a giddy smile pulling at his lips, mood immediately flipping at the thought of finally seeing you, talking to you, holding you. 

Except when he does it’s like he’s being doused with freezing water. 

Another one of his warrior trainees, Oäpon, is standing in front of you and Neteyam can see how he’s purposefully bulging his muscles a little more to make them seem bigger - an action male Na’vi do when trying to attract a mate. Neteyam wants to rip those muscles out of his worthless body. He should be disgusted with himself with how fast his hand twitches towards the knife on his hip, ready to give no thoughts and just act on his emotions. He’s not impulsive, he’s not. But for once in his life he feels like he might actually kill one of his own clan members. 

Would the Great Mother desert him if he did?

But you catch his attention again, the movement of your small step closer to the other man dragging his furious gaze back to you. Your gorgeous eyes aren’t on Neteyam like they should be, but instead on Oäpon in return. You’re smiling at him, grinning so wide that surely it's fake because you’ve never smiled at him like that before. Oäpon lifts his hand and there’s a deep purple flower between his fingers. The flower finds its way behind your ear and all Neteyam sees is red. 

He’s across the clearing in a second, roaring snarls ripping from his chest as he tears the flower from behind your ear. He can hear Oäpon start to talk, to question what the fuck he’s doing, but the other man’s words are cut off with a pained gasp as he’s kicked to the ground and then he’s shock silent, fear written all over his face as he stares in horror at his kuru and the knife held in Neteyam’s inescapable grip. 

“Don’t! Please, don’t,” Oäpon begs, voice shaking as he struggles to force the words out. “Great Mother, help! Please, don’t!”

“Neteyam, stop!” You yell, tiny fists beating at Netayam’s back, but he barely even feels them. 

“She is mine!” Neteyam growls. “Mine. My mate. You do not touch her!”

“I didn’t know,” Oäpon whimpers. “I didn’t know. Please! I swear!”

He wants to do it, wants to slice through the braid so badly. He doesn’t deserve to have it. Kurus are sacred, the ability to connect to Eywa and her creatures is sacred. Attempting to defile the bond between a mated pair is nearly unheard of. Your screams for him to stop are just making the desire worse. You’re protecting him?! Protecting the thing that was trying to . . . no. No, no, no. He deserves to have it cut off, deserves to die.

Oäpon should kiss his feet in thanks for the mercy Neteyam shows by releasing him. 

“I don’t ever want to see you near her again,” Neteyam shouts. Oäpon doesn’t respond, too busy scrambling away and darting across the clearing, but Neteyam knows he’s heard him. 

“You’re a monster!” You scream, another fist coming down to hit at his back. “How could you do that to him?”

Your hits don’t stop and even through his rage he’s trying to be gentle with you. He catches your flying fists in one of his hands, holding them tight as he crouches in front of you trying to get on your level.

“Ma yawne, did he hurt you?” 

Your eyes are wide as you stare at him in disbelief. “Did he hurt me? Are you kidding me?"

Neteyam’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“You fucking–” You screech, Neteyam’s ears pinning against his skull from the high pitched, angry sound. “You–you–I–ARGH!”

You're so frustrated, so upset you can’t even speak properly. Maybe you are hurt - Neteyam’s eyes scan your body for injury, eyes lingering on the area around your ear where the flower had been. The flower now lays forgotten at your feet, crushed and ruined from his angry grip, and Neteyam can’t find any source of injury that might be causing your upset.

“You don’t have to worry,” Neteyam says, cupping your cheek with his free hand. “He won’t bother you anymore, I swear it.”

You jerk away from his touch. “What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t understand what you mean. Nothing is wrong?”

“No,” You shake your head, wrists still trying to twist out of his grip. “No, there’s something wrong with you. Something is seriously wrong with you,”

“You are upset, tìyawn. Tell me what I can–”

“Don’t call me that!” You scream, nose scrunching with the effort. “Stop calling me that!”

“Oh,” Neteyam’s swishing tail droops in disappointment. “I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t know you didn’t like the name. I only meant to use it to show my love for you as my mate but I can–”

“We aren’t mates, Neteyam!” The words stab like a knife through his heart and his hand loosens around your wrists in shock enough for you to pull them out of his grasp. “We fucked once. A hookup, Neteyam. Sex, that’s it.”

“No,” He whispers. 

Why are you saying this? How could you say this? He was there! He remembers that night more clearly than any other day of his life. You love him. He feels it, feels it with every fiber of his being. You let him into your body, wrapped him tight inside you like a promise that you would never let him go - like he would never have to be alone ever again. You caressed his bullet scar, and he remembers the feel of your gentle fingers silently mourning for it and for all he’s had to suffer. He remembers thinking that being there with you in that moment was worth every other hardship he has to endure. He can take on anything with you at his side. 

“No,” He says again, disbelief coloring his tone. “How can you say that? We are mates! You’re mine!”

“No, we aren’t,”

“We are! I love you, y/n! Oel ngati kam–”

“We are not mated, Neteyam! We fucked. Mindless, hot, means-to-an-end-to-get-off sex. That’s it! Get that through your thick skull,”

He’s watching you as if in slow motion. You turn, stomping away from him as you start to head back into the forest and his brain feels like it’s going a million miles an hour. You’re mates. You are. You have to be - there’s no other way to explain the way he feels about you. The love and utter devotion he has for you. The need to be near you always - looking in your eyes, touching your skin, hearing your voice and the way you’ve always sounded so sweet saying his name. Eywa has blessed your union and he doesn't understand why you don’t feel the same way. Can’t you feel the same inescapable pull that he does? How your soul is tied to his in a way that surpasses even that of tsaheylu?

He reaches out to grab you before you get too far, fingers wrapping around your upper arm. Your own arm flies out around you and the sharp sound echoes through the forest and his sensitive ears before the pain registers on his cheek. 

He’s never seen your eyes so wide before, crazed and panicked as you stare back into his equally shocked amber ones. Your hand is shaking, still raised in the follow through of the slap. The force of your smack is still heating up his cheek, and if he can feel it as much as he is now, he’s sure your hand is probably tingling. 

Any other time he would check you for injuries. You’re so much more fragile than him - you could really hurt yourself if you’re not careful. But you just hit him. Your mate. The man that loves you more than anything. He’s frozen, body cold and not knowing how to react. 

Don’t call me that.

Anger floods through him again. This was Oäpon’s fault. He tricked you, seduced you somehow - out from right under Neteyam’s nose. He should have killed him. 

We are not mated.

You rip your arm out of his grip, wide eyes locked on him as he straightens his body, unfurling out of his crouched position as he rises to his full height. The shadow his body creates over you sends something primal through him. The darkened image of him completely overtaking your tiny figure makes him hungry. Possessive. 

Just sex, Neteyam. That’s it.

He won’t let that worthless skxawng corrupt you anymore. You’re the love of his life, his tanhì. You’re just confused. You’re not thinking clearly. 

You don’t mean it. 

He feels like if he concentrates hard enough, he can hear the sound of your heart racing. Or maybe it's his own, the frantic thump thump thump thump thump of his heart pumping rushing blood into his ears and making him feel like there’s static in his brain. 

When you turn to run, he’s not even shocked. His pupils dilate until there’s barely any color left, predatory gaze marked onto your back as you sprint into the dense Pandoran forest. Everything is so clear to him now. You’re testing him, wanting to see how loyal he is and how far he’ll go to keep you. You’re a beautiful woman, of course you’d have options. But you chose him for a reason, and now you want him to chase you - to prove himself a strong and worthy mate.

You want to play hard to get? Fine. He’ll play. 

He’s a natural hunter, an apex predator - and you, tiny human, have just become his prey. 

It might be fun to hunt you again - sometime in the future when this is all behind you. He’d be sure to make it as fair for you as possible: give you a head start, maybe allow you to rub some mud on your skin to hide your scent just to drag out the game a little longer, give you ample time and resources to find a good hiding spot where you can sit and try to listen with your not that great human hearing for any sign that he’s creeping up on your position. He’d wrap his arms around your waist when he inevitably finds you, smug grin tugging at his lips when your giggled shrieks pierce his eardrums as he pulls you from your oh so clever hiding spot. And then, he’d claim his prize, tearing your clothes from your body right there wherever he found you and fucking you until your giggly shrieking turns into blissful moaning. 

This isn’t fun. It’s not a game. And your headstart is dwindling rapidly. You’re racing through the forest, running as fast as your feet will carry you. He can hear your heavy breaths, the sound of the ground crunching under your clumsy feet. He can smell you, the scent you’re leaving behind in your rush is a direct trail back to you for him to follow. 

He doesn’t need it. He never lost sight of you. 

One of his strides equal close to four of yours, and he covers ground quickly as he closes in on you. He catches you only a little further into the forest than where the chase started and you scream as he tackles you to the ground, the force of his momentum completely knocking you both off your feet. He doesn’t let you touch the ground on the fall, twisting his body enough to take the brunt of the impact. The action still leaves you breathless, dazed for a moment before seeming to come back to yourself and struggling to get off from on top of him.

His hold around your waist is secure and he uses the anchor he has around your waist to throw you on to the ground beside him before climbing on top of you and pinning both of your hands above your head with one of his. 

“Get off me!” You scream, body struggling underneath him, hands pulling in his unrelenting grip as you try to get free, but you can barely move under his weight. “Get off me, Neteyam! Get off, get off, get o–”

His free hand latches around your throat, your words dying on your tongue as his fingers dig into the sides of your neck. 

“Quiet!” He hisses, baring his fangs. “Be quiet!”

The aggressive display makes a small whimper rip from your throat and he can feel the vibrations tickle under his palm. You’re not quiet though, you never stay quiet - ever the talker that you are. You’d talk his ear off if you could. The only time you’ve ever stayed quiet is when you avoided him, and he refuses to let that happen again. 

“Neteyam, please,” You whisper, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’re scaring me. Let’s just relax and talk about thi–”

“Shut up! Just shut up!” He growls. “You’ve said enough already, don’t you think?”

He releases your hands, grip on your throat loosening and moving down slightly until it's just a singular hand pressed against your chest to keep you pinned. Your hands immediately latch onto the large hand, one of your own clutching the back while the other curls around one of his long fingers. He feels how you pull at it, trying to get it off of you - and he knows how much harder you could be trying right now if you wanted to. 

He lowers his face to yours, inches away so that his breath fans across your skin as he speaks. “You like to talk, but you don’t like words. You’ve made that clear. My words mean nothing to you.” He can feel how your quick breathing puffs against his face too, the warm air caressing his cheeks. “You need actions - a visual representation of my devotion to you. I see that now.”

In a flash, his hands are balling into her t-shirt, pulling roughly in either direction and the thin material gives easily under the pressure. You gasp as he rips your shirt down the middle, the torn fabric falling on either side of your body as he does the same with your bra with a quick snap of his wrist. 

“What are you doing?!” You shout, but you can’t fool him now. He’s grown tired of your games and your body can’t lie to him. 

“Don’t worry, yawne. I’ll give you what you need,”

The sound of ripping material echoes through the otherwise peaceful forest. Your shorts require just a bit more force to tear, but it’s barely a percentage of his full strength so the fabric comes apart at the seams easily leaving the ruined bottoms still around your waist and thighs, but a large opening right at your center. A rumble of satisfaction builds in his chest when he smells you, the first scent of your arousal permeating the air around you. You gasp when he rips your panties too, leaving nothing left of the light blue material but the thin elastic around your limbs and hips. 

His mouth waters at the sight of your pretty pussy, bare and tempting and already getting so wet for him. 

“Fuck,” You whimper, arms splayed out beside you, fingers gripping into the moss covered ground. 

“You like it when I’m rough, huh?” Neteyam teases. “When I’m demanding and just take what I want from you?”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the way he can see your pussy’s responding clench is damning to your denial. 

“I remember now,” Neteyam’s hand slides down your thigh and caresses your calf, long fingers wrapping around your leg as he presses a nipping kiss to your ankle just above your sock. “You loved how I shoved you down on the ground that night. It made you gush in your pretty little tewng, didn’t it?”

“S-shut up,”

“Hm, my muntxate likes being handled roughly, doesn’t she?”

Your response is a shocked squeal when he snatches your hips, hauling you up off the forest floor, the quick snapping of moss ripping from the ground as you’re abruptly pulled upwards. Your entire world is turned upside down as Neteyam dangles you like prey in front of him. He throws your legs over his shoulders and wraps a secure arm around your stomach to hold your lower back to his chest. The other hand holds onto your thigh to make sure to keep you spread before him as if you had any chance to wiggle away. 

A choked sob rips from your throat as your hands reach for the ground, blood rushing to your head as your fingers stretch as far as they can trying to get leverage and hold yourself up. Your fingertips only just barely graze the soft green. 

Neteyam groans as he enjoys the sight right in front of his face. You’re spread open for him, pussy perfectly framed by the destroyed fabric - dripping and glistening in want against the dimming sunlight despite yourself. He can see how you subconsciously contract and clench it, hole practically begging him to fill it with his tongue. He wants to bury his face in it, suffocate on your smell and taste until it’s all he can think about. 

So he does. 

He digs his face between your legs, tongue lapping at your folds like a man starved. He is. He didn’t get to do this your first time. It was too fast, too desperate. He couldn’t control himself with you. Everything about you calls to him like a siren, luring him in with your beauty and light. You dragged him down on top of you that night. You were already open, you told him - had fucked yourself with that fake cock he had found hidden in your drawers during an impromptu hangout in your bedroom at the lab. You still felt suffocatingly tight when he pushed in, but he had been grateful that he didn’t have to wait.

He had waited so long for the chance to be inside you that he felt like if he had waited another second without you he would have exploded. 

Your back arches as he licks up your slit, moaning loudly as his textured tongue slides across your clit. 

“Oh my god,” You gasp out, hands forgoing reaching for the ground and finding purchase on his thighs instead. “Neteyam, f-fuck,”

He hums in response, his tongue targeting the sensitive bundle of nerves, sliding and flicking relentlessly against the small bud as your moans and gasps get louder and louder. Your sounds are driving him crazy, the taste of you on his tongue setting every one of his nerves on fire. His cock is already hard, already working its way past his wet slit and tenting in his tewng. You taste so good, so perfect for him. He wonders what it feels like for you, how good it must feel for you to be writhing in his grip now, so vocal for him in your pleasure that your voice is already starting to sound a bit raspy from use. He bets his tongue feels better than any other man you’ve ever tried, the texture of it foreign and unique and unlike anything else you’ve ever had before. 

It will be the same way for him too, he’s sure. He’s dreamed about it, fantasized and jerked off to the thought of your tongue, soft and silky, running up and down his cock. You’d torture him with it, be teasing and delicate in your licks, alternating between those featherlight, barely there teases against his lavender tip and firmer strokes down the base of his cock. 

Your nails are digging into the meat of his thighs as he wraps his lips around your clit, panting breaths telling him yes, right there, Teyam, fuck, fuck, yes as your hips try to hump against his face. You’re right there, right on the edge, ready to fall over it with just a little bit more.

But he stops, reveling in your frustrated groan as he pulls his mouth away from your soaked core. His intense golden eyes meet yours when your head forces its way up, raspy voice whining a desperate ‘why’ as you feel your orgasm slipping away from you. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” He demands. He needs to hear you say it. 

“Teyam…” 

He can’t bear to hear you deny him again. Can’t handle hearing you say the words that make him feel like his heart has been dunked in acid.

His lips latch onto your clit again, sucking harshly at the tiny bud and your words cut off with a gasp. He works you back up, your head falling back as he nips at your clit with his sharp teeth before licking down your slit to circle your entrance. You’re so tight, so so so tight around his tongue as he pushes it in. You clench around the wet muscle and then somehow clench even tighter when the hand gripping your thigh reaches over to rub firm circles on your clit.

“Teyam, oh god, Neteyam, please!” You beg, thighs squeezing his head as they try to force themselves closed. “I’m gonna cum. Please,”

You wail as he pulls his mouth away again, your hole clenching around nothing as your orgasm dissipates again. 

“Say it,” He feels your whole body shiver as his words breathe hot air on your sensitive cunt. “You’re mine. Say it, y/n,”

You sob, frustration evident in every sound and twitch your body makes. You’re trying to lift your head again, looking up at him from your spot dangling below him like a puppet, and he wonders if all the blood rushing to your head from being upside down for so long is getting to you. 

“Say it,” He repeats and then digs back in, the flat of his tongue roughly swiping over your clit before latching onto it again.

Your legs kick as he works you up again, overstimulated pussy throbbing as he plays you like an instrument he’s known for years. His cock is throbbing too, desperate to be released from the confines of his tewng and shown some attention. He wants so badly to push inside your soaking hole and feel how it’ll grip his cock within its slick walls. 

“Neteyam, please!” You cry, and he knows you’re so close, right there again as he hurdles you back towards that just out of reach edge. He doesn’t stop the suction of his mouth. You’ll say it, he knows you will. You’ll say it because if you don’t, you won’t get to cum. He’ll keep you here, upside down in his unrelenting hold until you pass out from exhaustion before he’s going to let you go without saying it. 

You’re a stubborn brat. He can see as he looks down your hanging body that you’re biting your lip. You want to say it - you’re just being stubborn. He sucks harder on the swollen bud, free hand smacking your hip and your asscheek just hard enough to make you cry and gush further on his tongue, the remaining remnants of your clothes doing very little to muffle the sting. 

“Okay!” You yell. “Okay, okay, Neteyam! I’ll say it! I’m yours! Please, please let me cum!”

The words make Neteyam’s chest tighten. Finally. Finally, you’ve admitted it, and the excitement from the admission urges him to lick you faster. He’s sloppy and greedy as he eats you out, overeager and face wet to the point of dripping as he devours you for all you have. You cum on his tongue with a choked scream, hands reaching up to grab desperately at his arm encircling your waist, nails digging into the cerulean flesh as your back arches and your thighs clench tightly around his head. 

He swallows everything you offer him, lapping up your juices like his favorite most treasured treat, before placing a protective hand on your back to steady you as he lowers you back down to safety.

“Mawey, yawne,” Neteyam coos, gently brushing away a few rogue pieces of moss stuck to your sweaty forehead. You’re still panting, exhaustion creeping over you as your eyes glaze over and threaten to close. The oxygen tube had unhooked from around your ear at some point during your experience upside down. Neteyam guides it back around your ear with careful fingers. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. Keep being a good girl while I fuck you, yes?”

Your eyes widen at the mention of fucking, shaking your head slightly even as the full bodied shivers of the orgasm’s aftershocks continue to wrack your body. “N-no, Teyam. C-can’t take i-it.”

Neteyam smiles, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss against your lips. The feel of your lips on his is almost enough to make him cum. He’s so worked up already, so high off the taste of your cunt on his tongue that all it takes is the loving press of your lips on his and he’s a second away from exploding in his tewng and ruining the fun. 

“Yes, you can,” He says against your lips, his sharp teeth digging into your plush bottom lip just to hear you whine. 

Last time he fucked you, he took you from the front. It was love making, a bonding of two souls coming together as one - a spiritual experience filled with panting breaths, eye contact, and the passionate coupling that comes with mating with the one your heart belongs to. 

You don’t deserve that right now, not with the way you’ve hurt him - made him work for the love that should have been given freely. The things you said can’t just be forgotten. You need him to prove his worthiness to you? Prove his loyalty? Then fine, he’ll do that by giving you exactly what you deserve.

You yelp when he flips you over on your stomach, large hands grabbing your hips and hauling them up so your ass is in the air and on display for him. The remaining fabric of your shorts still cover nearly half of your ass, but the little coverage does nothing to diminish the amazing view. You try to push yourself up with your arms, but Neteyam is quick to shove you back down with a hand on the back of your neck. 

“No, no, tìyawn,” He says, running a large hand over your exposed ass, his fingers teasing along the creamy slit of your pussy. “You said you’re mine, so let me see what’s mine.”

His teasing fingers find your hole and his teeth dig into his lower lip when he sees your thigh start trembling as he circles your entrance with the pad of his finger. You like it rough, he has to remind himself. You’re a human, so delicate compared to him that he naturally wants to be gentle with you. But that got him nowhere, it got him ignored. You respond to roughness, passion, him taking charge - so he doesn’t give you any warning before he’s plunging two long fingers inside you all the way to the knuckle.

You scream, slick walls squeezing around his fingers, your own hands once again ripping at the moss below you. The scream is agonized, oversensitive and pained from your earlier edging and orgasm. Your thighs are shaking, desperate sobs erupting from your throat. But the way you’re pushing back against him, rocking back against his invading fingers trying to get them deeper inside you tell him everything he needs to know. 

“Look at you,” He coos. His fingers start up a steady rhythm, thrusting inside you with purpose as he stretches you open. “Such a little whore for me, aren’t you?”

Your moans are muffled against the ground, cheek pressed firmly against the moss from his hand pinning you down by his neck. You ignore his question, too lost in trying to push back against his hand and make him fuck you faster - so he rips his fingers from your gripping cunt, drops of your wetness flying from the force of his retreat, and his large hand lands harshly on your backside. 

You howl at the smack, the sound of the slap against direct skin this time cracks through the forest like a gunshot. 

“I asked if you’re my whore,” Neteyam repeats. It’s not as romantic as ‘I’m yours’, but still just as important. 

“Yes, Teyam,” You whine. “I’m your whore.”

“Just for me, right? Only my whore,” Silence again, but your hips are still wiggling and searching for his fingers, so he rewards your silence with another sharp smack. “Say it, yawne,”

“Fuck!” You cry, ass feeling like it's on fire even as more of your slick drips down your thighs. “Yes, yes! Only for you, Teyam. Only for you,”

“Good girl,” Neteyam purrs, and you’re rewarded this time with his fingers sliding back inside your aching pussy. 

He stretches you out on those two fingers, alternating between scissoring them inside you and curling them to rub at that special spongy spot that makes you squeal and see stars. He contemplates adding a third, but decides that he wants to finish stretching you out on his cock instead. 

This time when you cum, it's less of a scream and more of a deep guttural groan that comes from deep inside you. It’s wetter than he expects it to be when you squeeze around his fingers, and the sight of your slick dripping from your mound onto the forest floor beneath you makes him feel absolutely feral. 

He lets go of the back of your neck and pulls his fingers from your abused cunt. The wet fingers work frantically at the knots on his tewng and he feels like he can’t get the fucking thing off fast enough. When the knots come undone and the tan material flutters to the ground, he breathes a sigh of relief, thick needy cock springing from its confines to slap against his belly. 

When he focuses back on you, your exhausted body is already trying to curl in a ball, eyes threatening to close as sleep calls to you. No, Neteyam thinks. He’s not done with you yet.

He flips you back on your stomach, pulling your hips back up high so they’re flush with his. You both groan as he rubs his hard cock between your folds, the tip nudging at your swollen clit. Fuck, you feel so good, pussy feeling like silk against his aching length. His eyes are locked onto where he’s lining his head with your entrance, watching in awe as he nudges himself forward, your greedy hole welcoming him in like you’ve been doing this forever. He can’t control his sounds, grunts and moans of pleasure echoing loudly through the trees as he sinks himself inside your slick walls. You’re so tight, even with the amount he’s stretched you out already you’re still so tight. But you stretch around him like you were made for him, made to take his cock into your depths - like your insides already know the exact shape of him and welcome him back into their warm embrace.

You whimper as he fills you up, back arching and hands clawing at the ground like you’re both trying to get away from him and closer to him at the same time. 

“I fucked you so good, didn’t I?” He gunts, pulling halfway out of your gripping pussy before slamming back in, relishing in the tortured moan it pulls from you. “That night by the fire. Made you cum so many times, over and over again until you were so cock drunk you couldn’t speak.”

He pulls out again, just a little further this time before thrusting back in. He does it again, and again, the rhythm hard and unforgiving and he pulls your hips closer to his. In the back of his mind he fears that he’s being too mean, too rough, but your gasping hiccups and blissed out sighs contain any worry. This is as much for him as it is for you anyway. He’s allowed to be selfish. 

“You’re always so talkative,” He pants. “Where’s that pretty voice now, huh? You were so talkative that night, just endless pleas of my name falling from your gorgeous lips. Like music to my ears. I wanna hear it again. Please, yawne?”

“Mmh, please,” You whine. “Please, Teyam,”

“Please what?”

“Faster,” You beg. “Fuck me faster,”

Who is he to deny such a sweet and pretty thing?

He leans forward, body curling over yours to cover you completely, one of his hands grabbing yours and linking your fingers together as he presses them both against the ground. His other hand is still on your hip, using it as leverage as he fucks your puffy pussy faster, the tip of his cock barreling against your cervix with each snap of his hips. 

He can feel the knot on the base of his cock swelling, the large ball of tissue nudging at your entrance with each thrust. The instinct driven part of him urges him to push harder against you, to force the knot against your tight hole to see if it will fit. 

He didn’t knot you that night, not wanting to risk hurting you or getting you pregnant so fast with such a new relationship. He came inside you with his fist wrapped tightly around his knot instead. Na’vi bonds are forever. Human bonds . . . now he’s not so sure. He’s not willing to risk it anymore. He’s going to bond with you in every way he knows how. 

When he feels his orgasm creep up his spine, he lets instinct take over. His grip on your hip tightens, thrusts halting as he presses the enlarged ball against your soaked entrance. 

You gasp, whimpering as his knot stretches you more. “Oh god, wait, wait,”

But it's too late. With another determined shove, the knot pops inside you and he has you trapped, locked on his cock until time decides to free you. 

“Neteyam, i-it’s too b-big,” You whine, shock evident in your voice. “Hmh, so full,”

Neteyam plants soothing kisses on the back of your head and neck, the hand on your hip smoothing around your belly to caress the large bulge of the outline of his cock in your stomach. “I know, tìyawn. I know. It’s so much, but you’re doing so well. Just a little more for me, okay?”

He can’t thrust now, can't even so much as pull out an inch now that he’s locked inside you. So, he makes you do the work. He keeps one hand on the bulge in your tummy, the other hand coming down to rub relentlessly at your throbbing clit. The stimulation makes you keen, pussy clenching and tightening around him and working his aching length with your wet walls. 

His fingers on your clit are your undoing. He barely hears any noise from you as your orgasm hits, but this time he’s able to see the side of your face as you come undone. Your eyes roll back into your head, mouth opening in a silent scream, but it's like all the breath has been stolen from your lungs. Your body tenses, muscles shaking through the overwhelming pleasure, and he feels as much as he hears how you gush and squirt all over his teasing digits and the ground below you. 

He moans at the sight, the feel of your pussy clenching around his length and the wetness from your orgasm on his fingers and cock makes him tip over the edge. His orgasm crashes through him, tearing him apart as he spills himself inside you. His cum paints your walls, and his knot makes sure to keep every single drop of it inside you. 

Neteyam collapses next to you, shaking as the aftershocks roll through him, and pulls your limp body safely against his. It will be at least an hour before the knot’s swelling goes down enough before he’s able to slip out. You let out a moan of pain as the knot pulls at your entrance as he adjusts you, but he sushes you.

“Relax, ma yawne. I’ll take care of you.” He coos. “Oel ngati kameie,”

You don’t say it back. You don’t even hear him, already dead to the world as your exhaustion finally catches up with you. 

It’s okay. He knows in his heart that one day soon, you’ll say it back.

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @minnory @localjasmine @skywonder @neteyamswillow @luvv4j4ybe11 @vampirefilmlover @quicktosimp (cause you said you liked yanderes)

**Comment here to be added to my taglist!

[shinningdance]

Sleepover

this was supposed to be platonic but it can very much be read as poly (＾▽＾)

pure fluff

warnings: none, i think??

Staying up late for work, alone or with your team, was nothing new. In this line of work it was kind of expected. War criminals never take a day off and give you a heads up.

That's why this night isn't a problem, especially since you're up with someone who actually knows what they're doing. Your captain.

You're seated on the couch, a comfortable pillow behind you and one on your lap, on top of that pillow are multiple files. John is slowly pacing back and fourth, reading out loud what's written in the files in his hands.

Your Job right now is too somehow find out where a specific guy could hide. Using the files is helpful, you two already have crossed out three eventual safe houses.

"You don't think he's stupid enough to hide at his mother's house, do you?" John asks as he looks at you, snuggled into the couch.

"Who knows...men are stupid, especially this guy. Maybe he needs his mom's advice." You answer with a small huff.

"I'm going to pretend i didn't hear the first part...But where else could he be hiding?" He sighs and rubs a hand over his face.

The door opens, revealing a very tired looking Johnny, who's carrying a blanket. Neither you or the captain minded him, simply looking at the files.

"Two hours ago he was seen getting on a plane, this plane landed 1 and a half hours ago, he couldn't have gone far." You sigh and lift your head, looking at a drowsy man. Before you you could ask anything, Johnny grabs the pillow which was on your lap and drops it on the floor. With a loud sigh he lays down on the couch, face down on your lap and covers his body with the blanket he brought.

"That was...something." John mumbles and looks at the younger mans body. "Oh, maybe he's still in the plane, going to another destination?" He suggests and looks back down at the papers

"Hm..That would explain why there is no camera footage of him leaving the plane." Grabbing the papers you make sure to not be too quick with your movements, don't want to disturb Johnny.

Just as your about to discuss another viewpoint, the loudest and most carefree snore leaves the sleeping mans body, making you look down in shock.

"Is he always this loud?" You question and move one hand to his hair, paying with it.

"You think that's bad? Should have been there when we had to share a tent, barely slept. you get used to it though." He explains with a small chuckle, clearly a happy memory.

"At least he's sleeping...Kind of jealous." You mumble, admiring his face.

"Hey, you signed up for this." John counters.

"Don't tell me you're having a sleepover without me." A different voice makes you look towards the door once more. Kyle's standing there, also with a blanket and in his pj's, a smile on his lips as he steps closer.

"Not really a sleepover, we were working and he just kind of… layed down here." You mumble and point to the sleeping man sprawled over the couch, head still in your lap and snoring away.

"Sounds like a sleepover to me" Kyle counters and lays down on your other side, head immediately dropping to your shoulder.

"Looks like you became their personal pillow.." John laughs as he watches the whole scene with a large smile.

"She is very comfortable.." Kyle confirms as he closes his eyes, one hand holding the blanket close while the other has a soft grip on your elbow.

"What if he's dressed as someone else..?" You mumble and look back at the files, specifically the pictures of people leaving the plane.

John hums and looks at the pictures, thinking about your words. "Could be...that man would do anything to stay alive and stay out of prison."

Every theory is being discussed over the next few hours, every actual theory and every silly theory.

"What if it never was him in the first place..?" John suggests and rubs his eyes, his own tiredness catching up to him.

He was expecting to met with a snarky comment or a small laugh but he was instead met with silence.

"Oh come on, we certainly have had worse theory, it's not that bad...right?" He defends, crossing his arms.

After another moment of silence he finally looks at you, at your sleeping form between the two sergeants. Johnny still has his head on your lap and Kyle has his face pressed against your upper arm, plus a death grip on your form arm. Your head is leaning against the back of the couch. The files that once where in your hands are now on the floor.

With a small smile he lifts the Scots feet and sits down, letting the younger mans legs rest on his lap.

After all, even he deserves some sleep, although he can't test if your a good pillow, like Kyle claims.

He closes his eyes and sighs, ready to fall asleep aswell.

He thought he was dreaming. He had to be. No way. because why would his captain, both his Sergeants and you be sleeping, or, well, cuddling.

The lieutenant shakes his head, all he wanted was to get a midnight snack, but here he is. Starring at his team sleeping.

Even though he would never admit, you recognize the four sleeping forms on his phone wallpaper.

His little family

a/n: not proofread!!!! who doesn't love a platonic family... also why do i love writting one shots more than writing my series ＞︿＜

[spxllcxstxr]

Being an Isha-like Figure to Pit Fighter!Vi • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: Hey! Could I please request some HCs of maybe being Vis adopted daughter? Sorta like Isha? I can just imagine a persistent little girl who keeps following her pit fighter hero about, Vi would probably not be interested at first but this kid just won’t leave her alone and damn she reminds her so much of powder. Maybe something happens and a protective instinct kicks in with Vi? I dunno, maybe kid gets hurt or sick but could we please also have some fluff of Vi releasing she actually enjoys having this kid around.  — anon

Warnings: gn!reader, little kid!reader, canon Undercity violence mention

A.N: first time writing vi! Hope you all like it <3

•

From the very first fight in the pit, Vi was your hero. Vi was able to take a hit--multiple hits-- from people twice her size and shake it off in a way you had never seen before. She would just keep getting up, keep finishing the fights, and keep winning them too

You were starstruck every time you snuck into the seats overlooking the dusty pit. The depths of the Undercity were no place for a kid, but that never stopped you from going to see Vi fight. She was a master the way she dodged and threw a punch

Before crawling into bed you would try to recreate exactly what you saw Vi do only hours prior. You would practice throwing punches at random things you would find around the room or the streets and you practice ducking and dodging imaginary enemies

Vi was ruthless in the pit; she never seemed afraid of anything and was just unstoppable in your eyes. You admired her; wanted to be just like her. Growing up in the Undercity was scary, especially for a kid, so you wished you could be strong enough to just take it all by storm

After maybe a dozen or so fights, you started following her out of the pit, hidden in the shadows at first--watching her limp home--you just wanted to be her, to meet her, anything. Eventually you came out of the shadows, waving hi to her, asking her what it was like fighting guys ten times her size. Vi's responses were always one word answers or grunts before she got tired of you tripping over her feet and she would shoo you away. That never discouraged you, however, people like her needed a good amount of sleep, and you would always see her the next day

Vi never really warms up to you, but eventually she stops glaring at you and grunting her answers. She starts expecting your visits, begrudgingly. She's not happy about it; she should not be your hero in the slightest, but while you're there, she at least attempts not to be a degenerate

This changes, however, when she watches you get grabbed by the so-called security of the pit fighting ring after they finally noticed you sneaking into the fights to watch. She watches you get roughly picked up by the scruff of your neck and watches the fear grow in your eyes, and she knows she has to do something. Using her popularity to her advantage, she rips the security guy a new one. Vi screams and yells and throws punches, just so they can let you go

After that she starts looking at you differently. Her gaze is softer and her smiles are more frequent. Later on, she'll tell you that you remind her of her little sister Powder, always getting underfoot, and asking Vi all these silly questions that always got her to laugh. Vi especially loves your curiosity, why else would you be sneaking into the pit fights?

Vi starts making dinner for two, always making sure you're well-fed and hydrated before you leave. If it's especially late out by the time you two finish, Vi has a makeshift cot for you in her room. Vi will tell you stories about what it was like growing up and will even tell you the same tales she once told Powder before bed

Like Jinx did with Isha, Vi starts putting her black makeup on you so you two look similar. She loves how you laugh and smile when she makes black stars or stripes on your cheeks. She tries to do a different design every time

She'll call you nicknames like kid or champ. Ruffles the hair on your head. Vi will teach you how to punch and how to defend yourself. She hopes and prays you never have to, but knowing the Undercity, it's only a matter of time until you'll have to fight for your life. Vi dreads that day. In fact, she's worried about you constantly. Even when you're within arms reach, she's worried about what could happen to you--if Vi can't get to you on time or if one day she gets knocked down and doesn't get back up again. Vi saves some money for you just in case under the floorboards of her room. Vi does change her mentality in the ring though. She stops going in there ok with the possibility of something bad happening to her. Vi realizes that she has someone to go home to, to cherish, to nourish. So she does start hoping she wins every fight or at least doesn’t get permanently injured

Vi simply doesn't want to make the same mistake she did with Powder, she wants to be there to protect you no matter how angry or frustrated she gets. She wants to show you unconditional love. she wants to not fuck it all up all over again

•

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

Have you had enough?

Targaryen reader x Aemond Targaryen x Aegon Targaryen.

Your husband and brother, Aemond, have been taking everything that belonged to Aegon. You're tired of it, the drop that spilled the glass was Aegon's incident. Your brother, the one who you actually love, badly injured, that was the end of your patience.

Warning ⚠️: Credits of this images goes to whoever they belong to, I took them from the Tumblr blogs: bbygirl-aemond / Winterswake/ tarth. Grammatical and spelling errors, I haven't watched this chapter of HOTD yet, I just needed to take the idea out of my mind so I can continue with a new chapter of the story (By fire and heart).

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Everybody running and walking from one room to another, you didn't understand at first why all the scandal until you saw a group of guards carrying your brother.

Aegon and you were close, spending much time together which your mother clearly didn't see with good eyes, you loved him in the way you couldn't love your husband.

Aemond took you as a wife and treated you with respect but not love, he never loved you, he simply took you because both were single and your little brother was far away from home to save you from that terrible unhappy marriage, it was only you and him, when he heard about your little secret romance with Aegon, he made you his wife before you could dishonor yourself that was his argument, but the truth was he did it for the simple fact to not give Aegon the satisfaction to also be the owner of you, or your body, silly Aemond never thought what actually mattered it was your heart, Aegon was deep inside your heart. A thousand men could be between your legs but only one could have your heart, loyalty and devotion.

You walked behind the guards questioning what happened. None of them could answer you, once they're in the king's chambers, one of the masters asks you to not interfere and wait out of the room.

- My princess, please you have to wait and let us work. In your conditions the least you need is stress.

You're going to respond when you see Aemond walking inside, he doesn't even stop to see you, you're sure he didn't listen to what the master told you, he walks directly to Aegon's bed. You walk and stay behind him, your tears falling as soon as you see your beloved brother, his precious face now half burned as much as the rest of his body, you're sure Aemond was behind all that, you left the room looking for Ser Criston, you found him on the way to your mother's chambers.

- What happened?

- My princess, I don't know, everything was fast, I just saw the king and his dragon falling.

- Don't dare to lie to me. Did my husband have something to do with this?

He doesn't talk but silently nod at you. Your body is burning with rage, you're furious you would love to burn your husband alive. His thirst for... power? Revenge for the traumas of childhood? Whatever it was, has taken it too far. Your nephews death and now your brother fighting for his life, Rhaenyra claiming the throne, dealing with a war and the pain of her newborn and Lucerys deaths, the poor Helaena trying to accept her son's death too and now carrying with a husband who probably will end as your father ended, in that bed looking the days and nights go until the gods have mercy and let him die.

You've been avoiding Aemond since they arrived, you spent much of your time with Aegon, Helaena doesn't complain, she's okay with it, she always knew your feelings for her husband, she's glad you're taking care of him and occasionally visit the king's chambers to help you or at least to talk with you. Even your mother visited Aegon, but there were no signs of Aemond.

Until one evening, you were holding Aegon's hand, whispering something close enough to him hoping he somehow could listen to what you were sharing with him, when the doors of his room opened, you did not see him but you were sure it was Aemond for the sound of his boots on the floor, you know his way to walk by heart.

- Ao spend olvie jēda kesīr (you spend much time here)

- Se ao spend olvie jēda sitting va zȳhon dēmalion (And you spend much time sitting on his throne)

You don't Even look at him, you're still holding Aegon's hand, contemplating what once was his face.

- Perhaps my wife could support me as much as she's supporting our brother. Your devotion to him is admirable, but it's what I'm expecting you to give me, not to him.

- Why would I support you? All the atrocities you've been causing and you expect me to congratulate you, to love you?

- Are you accusing me of something, wife?

His jaw tensed, his eye looks at you full of anger.

- Don't pretend you're innocent, I know you. You always wanted to take Aegon's place. You always take what is not yours, tell me husband, have you had enough? What else do you want?

Before he can argue again, Aegon opens his eyes, with the few strength he still has, he squeezes your hand.

Aemond notices it and pushes you aside, he starts to talk with Aegon, asking him what he remembers, he insists it wasn't his dragon who attacked him. Aegon simply says he doesn't remember anything, but you know he's lying, Aegon always has been good to keep himself safe, his facility to preserve his own survival and right now his only chance to survive it was to pretend he did not remember what happened.

Aemond was not going to leave the discussion in the air. He left but you're sure he will be back to try to make you regret your accusations.

Just as you predicted, At the hour of the owl, he appeared in your chambers, you were awake, looking through your window, you know how much he hates your indifference against him.

- So, what else will you take from our brother this time?

You say without any worry. Aemond walks until he's right behind you, you can feel his jaw against your head.

- What he expected to claim too. You.

He whispered while placing his hands around your waist, you couldn't contain your laughing, Aemond confusion made it harder to keep. You laughed loudly on his face, you are now face to face with your husband, he has never seen that look, your eyes darkened and your smile was full of evil, giving him a small kiss on the lips, murmuring almost whispering.

- Oh Aemond, do you seriously think I was still a pure untouched little princess?

He stepped back, his face doesn't show any emotion but you can feel his blood boiling.

- I am pregnant.

- Liar. I made everything to be sure he would not put a finger on you.

- Ask the master, I'm waiting for my first child.

Seeing his body tensed and full of anger brings you a new kind of feeling, it's an addictive pleasure you didn't know could exist.

-You know what makes it funnier? Even if one day I have your child, he will be just like you.

- What do you mean?

- A Second son who will not inherit anything. Or even better you will never have a child with me because I will prefer to be burned alive before giving birth to your children.

He quickly takes you by the neck and slams you against the wall, pressing his body against yours, even with the lack of air in your lungs, the pleasure of seeing him frustrated makes you feel alive, excited. He released you and left the room without saying more.

Once you take some air, you smile to yourself, your husband and his poor try to keep you away from Aegon, expecting to have you all for himself, but not even your body belongs to Aemond, he never thought he would be so frustrated about such a little thing like that, not having your love or your respect was the last thing he thought he would care about, the last thing he would desire to have more than anything else.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Home Sweet Not Home

Summary: The reader wakes up in bed next to a familiar but oh so strange man...

Pairing: Jensen x hunter!reader

Word Count: 1,400ish

Warnings: none

A/N: Hooo boy enjoy this one!

You felt warm when you began to stir awake. There was a heavy blanket on you that was nice, not out of the ordinary for Dean to pile an extra one on the bed while you were sleeping. You rolled over in bed, smashing your face in a bare chest.

“Morning,” Dean mumbled. His voice wasn’t as deep and you wondered if he was coming down with something. You blinked open your eyes, resting your hands on his chest, running them down briefly before you cocked your head.

“Where’s your tattoo?” you asked carefully, putting your hand on his pec, ready to use your nails in the shifter’s flesh as a distraction. But this Dean was chuckling, nuzzling his cheek against yours.

“S’on my shoulder like always, silly,” he said, yawning and sighing softly. “You okay? You’re tense.”

You shifted your head up, noticing the white headboard, eyes darting around to see soft light colored walls, a large balcony door and a window overlooking a grassy backyard and pool.

“What the…” you said, standing and hopping out of bed, glad that you were at least in the t shirt and shorts you remembered falling asleep in. You went over to the door and pulled it open, Dean out of bed and moving to the other side of the room, hitting something on a white thermostat looking thing.

“Honey,” he said, walking over as you stood on the small balcony, leaning over the railing to look at a patio and some trees. “Y/N. Everything alright?”

“Where…” you asked, Dean sighing.

“We’re in Austin,” he said, running his hand gently over your head. You turned to look up at him, spotting him in a pair of navy boxers that he normally wore.

“Austin?” you asked, his arm sporting the tattoo he mentioned before but it wasn’t an anti-possession one.

“Okay,” he said, gently resting his hands on your shoulders and pulling you back into the very nice bedroom, soft carpet under your toes. He sat you on the bed and kneeled down in front of you. “The doctor said this might happen so that’s why he gave us the list of questions, remember?”

You had no idea what the hell was going on but you just shrugged, this guy very kind for a shifter if he was one.

“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked with a smile.

“Y/N,” you said.

“Your full name, sweetie,” he said, still smiling.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, the smile wiping off his face.

“That’s your maiden name,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “S’okay. We’ll keep going. What’s today’s date?”

“Um,” you said, thinking for a moment, Dean cocking his head when you answered.

“That’s right,” he said, forcing a smile on his face. “Does your head hurt, honey?”

“My head? Why would my head hurt?” you asked.

“We were in a car accident two days ago. They were concerned you had a concussion. Last night was the first time you were at home. Do you not remember any of this?” he asked.

“Dean, I don’t-”

“Dean? You know I love a good joke but now is not the time, Y/N,” said Dean. You swallowed hard, Dean putting a hand on your head. “What’s my name?”

“I…” you said, looking around the room for any kind of clue. Something had happened after your witch hunt obviously. Same name, different person. You were still Y/N where ever you were but a different version, paired up with a different Dean that apparently wasn’t named Dean. You were well off if your yard was anything to go off of so you definitely weren’t hunters. “I’m just tired. Sweetie.”

“Nice try. What’s my name?” he asked again.

“Honestly?” you asked. He nodded, curiously looking up at you. “I don’t remember.”

“That’s alright,” he said, very good at hiding the flash of concern that showed up on his face. “Do you-“

A phone started to ring, Not Dean ignoring it in favor for paying attention to you.

“Do you remember how we met at all?” he asked.

“Working a job,” you said, his face twitching up.

“That’s right,” he said, tilting his head.

“I’m sorry. I’m just...messing with you,” you said, the man pouting. He opened his mouth but a doorbell rang somewhere, the man getting to his feet.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here,” he said, walking over to a closed door, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a shirt from the floor as he went. The second he was out of the door you started to look around, trying to find clues about who he was. You could always make a break for it but in pajamas you didn’t think you’d get far, especially with this guy’s sweet husband thing he had going on.

You walked through an open door to a bathroom, cutting through it to find a closet. You sighed, wishing you’d found something with a name until you jogged back to the nightstand, a wallet on top.

“Yes,” you said, ripping it open and pulling out a Texas license. “Okay. Jensen Ackles. 6’ 1”. Organ donor. Well that’s nice and all but I still know nothing.”

You started to dig through the wallet, mostly credit and reward cards, some cash and a business card with a doctor’s name and number. There was a faded picture of him and a woman that looked exactly like you, the worn edges saying it was probably at least five years old.

You put the wallet back when you heard him coming, sitting back in your spot on the bed, trying to seem relaxed.

“Who was at the door, Jensen?” you asked innocently, Jensen lifting his chin.

“Kid up the street. Girl Scout cookies. I ordered you some thin mints,” he said, padding around to the side of the bed, arms crossed. “Don’t pull shit like that again. It’s not funny. You know how freaked I was after the accident.”

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, his face briefly looking hard before he started to drag his toes through the carpet.

“I get this feeling you’re lying to me,” he said, looking you in the eye. “I’ve known you forever, kiddo. You have that look on your face.”

It’d be easy to lie and make something up. It’d be easy to fake a concussion too. Telling the truth would probably get you thrown in an institution.

Jensen tilted his head and walked over to you suddenly, grabbing your underwear and pulling the band down an inch.

“Hey!” you barked at him, kneeing him hard, Jensen falling to the floor.

“You don’t have a tattoo,” he said, getting to his feet slowly, pressing his thumb against your hip, wiping over your anti-possession one. “That’s real.”

He backed away from you, looking you up and down.

“You would never hit me like that because you know I don’t touch you like that and…” he said, tilting his head as he stared at your leg. “You don’t have a scar on your thigh. What…”

“Jensen...take a breather for me buddy,” you said, Jensen shaking his head. “I can explain.”

“Am I nuts? You’re not my...did I die in that accident? Is this some-“

“Dude! Chill. You’re not dead,” you said, Jensen eyeing you suspiciously. “You’re fine. I’m the one that’s…”

“Not my wife?” he said, closing his eyes. “This is one of those freaky weird dreams that seems super real. That’s what it is. You definitely aren’t-“

“Uh, I’m Y/N,” you said. “Hate to break it to you.”

“I was going to say, Reese,” he said. “You know, the character you play on a tv show. Now would be a great time to tell me this is a very in-depth prank.”

“Me? On TV? I have done some crazy stuff but that…” you said, Jensen nodding his head at you. “You’re freaking out.”

“Just a little,” he said. You hummed.

“I guess I have to give you the civilian talk,” you said.

“The what?” he asked.

“Just take a seat, Jensen.”

_________

[aotivrs]

Hello! It's me again, I hope you're having a good morning/night! May I request part 4 Jotaro with a s/o that's been with him on the trip to Egypt and they call him sweet names but one day they call him without using any sweet names , so Jotaro thinks he did something wrong. く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡

RESERVED WORDS

A/N Glad to see you back, hope you’ve had a good day! thank you for the request, this is such a cute idea, hope you enjoy 😌

I also kinda misread the request, I wrote the fic and then realized you probably meant like a phone call but if that is what you were after feel free to request again as i’d be more than happy to do that too :)

Since Egypt, things had never calmed down. It felt that way ever since Star Platinum had manifested itself for the first time many years ago, but then again he could find that much needed tranquility in your presence even if it was for a short time.

More so now, as Jotaro waits for you to return to the hotel room. He thought about you a lot, even if you were in arms length and that alone despite it being unbeknownst to you was enough proof that he did care dearly. On the other hand, you were very much not as secretive about how much you cared.

He’d grumble and groan about the silly petnames you’d given him, to be truthful he wouldn’t really have it any other way but he still had a reputation to uphold and you calling him sweetheart wasn’t doing his reputation much good.

Jotaro wasn’t always the best at reading feelings, even after how long he’d known you, often this did lead to miscommunication but he was really trying to be better at talking to you. He wondered if he should ask you, seemed like a silly thing after all the times he’d complained about those sweet names but they seemed to be very absent recently.

At first he’d shrugged it off as stress, Jotaro knew himself that your’s and his relationship was put on the back burner a lot during times like these and whilst he hated that, if it meant keeping you safe he’d put it on the back burner as long as necessary.

It wasn’t long before Jotaro was interrupted from his thoughts, he returns his cup back onto the wooden desk he had been laying his elbows on when he hears the door unlock.

“Jotaro, I know you said you didn’t want anything, but i got you something to eat” the same sentiment about him thinking about you was reciprocated as you always thought about him even when he didn’t think about himself, which unfortunately was most of the time.

You place the plastic bag on the table beside him as you get closer you notice the slight fidget in his hands.

“You, okay?” you question, your eyebrows furrowing. It was always difficult to tell what Jotaro was thinking or feeling. Whilst he might not be truthful with his answer most of the time at least the thought is there.

“Are you upset with me?” despite his question his facial expressions didn’t waver even slightly, you could tell it was genuine though just by the tone of his voice.

“Why would I be upset?” It seemed like a stupid question, there had been no reason for you to be upset yet you rack your brain thinking of a recent moment that Jotaro might have taken it as you being upset.

There is a silent pause before Jotaro begins to speak again, “… I don’t know, you just” He sighs slightly, “You haven’t called me any of those dumb petnames in a while, I’d thought i’d done something wrong and you were waiting for me to notice’

You huff out a small laugh, “No, not at all. I just didn’t want to show you up in front of Josuke”. You rest your hand on his knee, “You always say it humiliates you..”

“Yeah well, I never told you to cut it out completely…” He mutters just loud enough for you to hear.

Time never changed Jotaro, he was same man he was those many years ago in Egypt.

[pomefioredove]

Hiii!! I was wondering if you could “I can’t stop thinking about you” with Jade? If ur prompt things are still open of course! If not that’s totally okay too!!

o7 anon

summary: "I can’t stop thinking about you" type of post: short fic characters: jade additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, not proofread and maybe a little ooc a part of this event

"And don't forget to lock the doors when you leave,"

Azul sighs, hovering in the doorway of the Mostro Lounge with his hands on his hips.

"Luckily, nothing was stolen last time I let Floyd take the closing shift, but luck is fickle,"

He pauses, turning to you. "I'm sure you, at least, will be able to handle something so simple."

You salute the tired-looking merman before the soft swoosh of the kitchen door interrupts the conversation.

"My, you have such little faith in me, Azul. I'm wounded," a smoother, much less tense, presence follows it.

You'd always wondered how Jade is able to sound imposing without ever actually raising his voice.

Azul huffs. "I clearly was not addressing you. Good evening to the both of you... Don't stay up too late,"

And with that, he's gone.

As soon as the door is closed and Azul's inky silhouette has vanished, you turn to look at the gentleman behind you.

"I didn't even know you were here,"

"I'm not supposed to be," Jade smiles, offering little explanation.

By now, you're sure he does that on purpose.

You don't feel like being baited into a conversation, but when your only other option is silence with Jade...

"So?"

"I was taking stock," he says. "Both metaphorically and literally. We're short on limes."

His strangeness radiates off of him like a mist. You narrow your eyes at him; he's hiding something, you're sure. But what are you supposed to do- interrogate him?

"I'll leave a note," you mutter, turning your attention back to sweeping.

This is your very first closing shift at the lounge; no customers, no Azul, no sounds except for your own breathing.

And Jade's.

He smiles again. "Shall I help? You'll be done faster with another set of hands,"

He could just leave. He's not even on the clock... if this is him looping you into some ploy to get overtime, you swear...

"If you would like,"

"Excellent,"

Jade disappears into the kitchen, taking that strange air of tension with him, and returns with a rag and cleaning solution.

He's completely silent, perusing the lounge as if it were an art museum, admiring the specks and stains on each table before wiping them down.

"You seem nervous," he says merrily, not even looking at you. "Are you afraid of the dark?"

"No," a half-truth. "I'm just tired." a lie.

"I've read that many human children develop a fear of the dark. What's more, is that it's not considered irrational. How fascinating,"

You focus on the bristles of the broom in front of you. The Mostro Lounge does get rather dark at night... all of Octavinelle does.

"It's not irrational," you mutter.

"Perhaps for you. But in the sea, a child being afraid of the dark would be as silly to us as a child being afraid of sunlight would be to you,"

You pause to look out one of the windows in the lounge, the thick pane of glass separating you from the inky depths. It's almost pitch black at this hour.

Ugh. You're letting him get in your head.

You hum. "Is that why you're here, then? Protecting me from the dark?"

Jade smiles, watching you out of the corner of his eyes. "No. I was only making conversation. You seemed uncomfortable with my presence,"

"I just was expecting to be alone,"

"So was I,"

You pause, turning to him with a questioning glance.

As vague an answer as ever, you think, though there's a certain gleam in his eye that's daring you to find out for yourself.

He meets your gaze. "You interest me,"

Jade says it plainly, his tone soft, as if he thinks he might scare you away with any sudden movements.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he hums. "And I hope you understand my meaning... I do not seek to make you uncomfortable."

You set the broom against the wall. "You're not,"

He mimics you, setting the rag and bottle aside. If you didn't know any better, you could've sworn you caught a look of relief on him.

"Good. I have no malicious intentions... This time,"

You take that as a joke. It's not very funny.

Jade chuckles. "Ah, don't roll your eyes at me. I'm only lightening the mood... I would like to get to know you better, after all," he pauses. "As a confidante."

There's something oddly genuine about this.

He's as calm as ever, but you can tell there's a current of vulnerability hiding beneath the surface.

You can't help a smile at the thought.

"Not an informant, then?"

He smiles back. "Not with you, no,"

[alcoholfreenayeon]

yow what abt twice mtls? confess first, fall in love, get jealous, fall out of love. great jeongyeon hc btw

Twice most to least likely: Get jealous

A/N: I feel some of these ended up sounding more yandere than jealous🙂‍↕️ but hopefully that’s just me😭hope you guys like it

Sana

She’s a huge flirt, she likes the way she can get people to be infatuated with her plus she likes to play hard to get.

Because of this she’s not used to people seeing her as a second choice so when she sees her partner having a good time with someone else when she’s available or even when she isn’t, it makes her feel strange.

It’s uncharted territory for her and she feels possessive immediately. After all what does the other person possess that Sana doesn’t. Why isn’t her partner yearning for her every moment instead of having a good time without her…

Nayeon

You’ll find Nayeon staring daggers at you with or without a polite smile. It’s really not a fun sight to witness because you just know you are in so much trouble later.

Nayeon feels very possessive of you. She’s someone who needs a lot of reassurance so you being clingy with anyone other than her doesn’t bode well with her.

Though she ends up feeling a bit silly after some time thinking for being so possessive she can’t help it, she wants you for herself and only herself.

Mina

Mina is a big introvert and she likes to stay indoors alot and keep to herself. But she knows she can’t really force you to do the same.

Nevertheless, she secretly wishes you would be that way. She’d prefer if she could have you all to herself. If it’s only you and her, all day everyday,

She feels sometimes she’s not good enough and that might make you drawn to others and hence gets her guard up immediately when she sees you being close with someone she doesn’t know.

Momo

You were happily chatting with your friend while waiting for Momo. You had known her for a long time, you didn’t take much notice of it when while laughing at a joke, she put her hand on your arm.

Soon enough, her instincts began to scream for danger and upon looking around, she spotted Momo a few meters away, glaring at both of you. “Is that your girlfriend?”…..

The journey back home was quiet. You realized how that might have looked out of context and were fearing Momo saw it differently. She was quiet though. “Everything ok baby?”, you ask her.

“Yes. But you need to sleep early and rest well”, she replies. “Huh? Why do I need extra rest?”, you question. “Well the couch isn’t very comfortable to sleep on is it”, she answers, unbothered, as she looks into the rearview mirror and applies her lipstick.

Chaeyoung

Chaeyoung and you were surprised to run into your ex at the mall. It was a bit awkward for the three of you but luckily there was no violence.

She hated how you and your ex became awkward because for her that meant you both saw each other and intentionally or unintentionally reflected back on the time you both were together.

She hated when while leaving, you both shared an inside joke which she didn’t know. Chaeyoung knew it’s just how these things go but that didn’t make her blood boil any less.

Tzuyu

Tzuyu is observant, she doesn’t always speak out, never mind her speaking her mind.

So when she was looking at your Instagram and spotted old posts of you and your ex, it just made her quite upset.

But she also knew it was the past yet she also thought you could have deleted it. After all wasn’t the ex was no longer part of your life.

Dahyun

Dahyun was watching you talk with the party’s host. It was normal. The two of you seemed to be getting along well.

She was standing a few feet away, getting something to drink when she suddenly heard the host make a suggestive flirty comment towards you. You didn’t realize it and just laughed along,

Dahyun though, gritted her teeth, it’s annoying that you always are so oblivious to these things. She’s gonna scold you for that later, as for the host…well, it’s a good thing her nails felt sharp right now.

Jihyo

Jihyo knows her worth and she knows you know it too. So she’s never really worried about someone else stealing you away.

But after watching some dramas, she got a bit influenced by them and began to worry that she didn’t like you as much as she thought or wanted because why wouldn’t she ever feel jealous. It was normal for couples to feel jealous at some point right?

And when she asked you to try and flirt with a cashier because she wanted to test something, you definitely felt it was a test. It took a lot of convincing from her and a promise that you wouldn’t get in trouble. Reluctantly you did it but when the cashier actually ended up giving you her number. Jihyo took your hand and dragged you out of the store without even buying anything. You were in big trouble.

Jeongyeon

Jeongyeon never has any real reason to doubt you. She knows you both love each other very much.

Of course, it’s inevitable that at some point either of you would get approached by someone else. It won’t be your or her fault if that happens.

But that’s easier to think when it hasn’t happened. When a fellow idol told Jeongyeon that she was lucky to have you and she should be careful you could get stolen. Though Jeongyeon was polite, her glare she ended up shooting at them later would have scared them silly.

[acehazbin1]

‘Calla?’

Tw: use of y/n, mood swings, light assault.

Note: sorry guys if it's not very good, I've just had a crazy Xmas so far 😭

Chap 1 chapt 2

"I feel silly." The once maid spoke, as she stood in front of a mirror getting her measurements taken by a seamstress for custom stolas. When Caracalla agreed to court her, they couldn't have her fill her normal duties. She was rushed into the palace, a room set up and maids were given to her by a wave of Caracalla's hands.

She lived with the other maids before this, squeezed into a tiny room. It was quite a contrast to be pushed into a room that could have fit her childhood home into it.

"It's different but I'm sure you'll get a costumed soon, after all why go through all of that trouble if you were just going to complain." The seamstress was measuring her waist with tape when she muttered that. The woman stood there shocked at her mumble, "Pardon me?"

"Oh come now, dont play dumb with me girl." The other woman tutted, "Everyone knew he was getting desperate. How come a pretty maid talks to him while drunk one night and gets a ring?" The woman grabbed the hand that had the ring Caracalla had given to her, and the happier shined off the candles. "It wasn't- I dont mean-"

"What did you put into his drink that night? What alchemist are you working with?" The seamstress gripped out uncomfortably tight, and the woman gulped. "That's enough." A voice throughout the room filled the seamstress's eyes with terror. "Emperor Geta, a thousand apologies-"

"It is not me you should ask forgiveness instead of my brother's bride." Her death grip widened in a flash, and the woman sushfulled her way out of the room closing the massive doors behind her. A silence hung in the air before she managed to speak, "Your brother is courting me, I am yet his bride."

Geta's lips twisted into a smile, "Yes but I would have not likened to call you his suitor?"

"Why not?"


"Suitor is such a masculine word, I would not simply apply it towards my brother and..."

She sighed, Caracalla had yet to tell anyone her name. She's been referred to as bride, suitor, maid, courtship, and soon-to-be-wife but never her maid by the people in the palace. "Y/n, my Emperor."

"Y/n?" Geta looked away from her as he tried the name on his lips for the first time, "It is such a... peasant name is it not?" Her eyes widened not expecting that from Geta, he was always the more 'tamed' one to say the least. "Caracalla likes it."

"My brother named a female monkey Dundgus." Geta laughed, waving the thought Caracalla had opinions on such a low-class name. "It is rude to speak to your brother's suitor like that."

"Ah, it is questionable to explain how to interact with someone to an Emperor." Geta's voice laced with a threat something she picked up on. Even with this newfound power, well 'power' she could easily be killed by him and labelled as a spy. Something caught in her throat, "What is your intent with my brother?"

"To get to know him." It was a simple answer but held great substance for Geta, "Not marry him?"

"If I had a choice why would I marry a man I didn't know?"

"He is one of the emperors of the Roman Empire."

"Yet his tantrums I heard would destroy what Rome has forged." She shocked back but without missing a beat Geta stepped closer. “Yet you still wear his ring on your finger?”

“I already told you, Im not interested in power.”

There was another silence, Geta was going through her words. She had a knot in her stomach in case she said anything to upset the Emperor.

“The Senate doesn't think it’s a great idea for my brother to marry a maid.” Her eyes widened, she knew the senate still had great control over Rome even with the Emperors there. She didn't mind not marrying Caracalla so far, she just didn't like the thought of the aftermath. “You're lucky my brother never cared for their opinions.”

“What about your opinion?” She asked interested, Geta smirked a bit. “It would be too soon to tell if you were really after the wealth and power of the imperial family yet…”

“I feel if you can calm Caracalla, then I give you my blessing.” Geta looked at her and Y/n thought about his tantrums. Even Geta can’t calm down sometimes leading to cuts and bruises that she saw him applying makeup to.

“I-” “Brother, why are you in my lady's chambers?” A voice came from the door, Caracalla had his hand pushing on the door. He looked dishevelled, his hair was quite messy and his tunic was stained, just like he was when she first saw him.

“Ah, brother. You rudely didn't introduce me to your lady so I decided to myself.” Geta explained carefully, he didn't like the look in Caracalla's eyes. Envy was something that Caracalla felt nearly every day because of his brother but the look in his eyes was different.

“I was going to when I got to know her better.” in other words, he didn't know if she would leave him for his brother yet. Before Geta could answer, Y/n spoke up “My Emperor, I would like to request alone time with Caracalla.”

Geta looked at Y/n then Caracalla, before nodding and making his way out. Caracalla moved to the side to let him out closing the door behind Geta. She tried to go over towards her, “Caracalla, are you-”

Y/n tried to ask if he was okay since his appearance was rugged. “Is this your ploy to court me as a way to get to my brother?” Caracalla's voice was accusatory. She was shocked, she shook her head frantically. “No, no, never-”

“Why was he in your chamber then?” Caracalla stepped away from her, he couldn't make eye contact. “He came in I didn't ask him to, he saved me from a jealous maid.”

“Oh, and he's now your knight?” Caracalla shot back. She had to think quickly about how to get out of this, “Calla please don't.” she used a nickname. Caracalla stopped, she knew his moods could switch in a second so she tested it. “Calla?” His voice turned soft, and she nodded.

“Yes, calla I would never have eyes for anyone but you.” She reached her hand out to touch his cheek and he leaned into it. “Hm, if you did I have to puck out your eyes.” He smiled and she returned it nervously.

His hand wrapped around her waist pulling her closer and resting his chin on her shoulder. She brushed her fingers through his hair, as she thought about how quickly his mood changed. He adored her now but how could he feel in a week? A day? Then next hour?

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